Going Back To Pain
by SleepingInThePrison
Summary: Kyra and Daryl have moved on from Rick and Beth and everyone else that has caused hurt. Now 'married' and expecting, they want to go back to the prison one last time to see who's living and who's not. But, when the innocent idea takes a wrong turn, they may have the odds once again against them.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE  
I laid my head down on the dining room table and sighed loudly and dramatically, I was able to do that now that I was 'with child'. Michonne shot me a look before glaring back at Daryl. Morgan simply leaned over and squeezed my shoulder. I lifted my head slightly and smiled at her before turning to look back at Daryl and Michonne, both standing.

"This is ridiculous!" she nearly shouted.

"Why?" he shouted/whined back.

"Last week you didn't want to go! And now you just want to up and leave! Just to see how everyone is doing! Daryl, they hate you!"

Ouch. That would hurt.

Probably not Daryl. But it would have if it was me.

"And they especially hate her!" she threw her hand in my direction.

Whoop there it is.

"Now, no need in insulting people," Raul piped up, trying to take on as much authority as he could. God, he was getting on my nerves lately.

"They do, Raul! Why do you think they got kicked out?"

He didn't seem to have an answer for that one. He just stared back at her until she swung back around to tear into Daryl.

"This is a stupid, stupid idea."

"What's so stupid about it, Michonne?" I finally spoke up, lifting my head from it's resting position on my arm. "We're just going to see who's alive. Then we're going to leave." I tried to blunt but I was ready to just get up and leave. Walk out the door.

"What's so stupid about it? It's that I know you won't just look. You'll have to talk to Beth or to Hershel. You'll have to. You'll insist on it! And then you guys will get sucked in! Both of you will! Or worse, they'll make you leave! You're being stupid!"

We stared at each other for a second.

"Michonne, we are going with, or with out you. We thought we'd just be nice enough to invite you," I said coldly, my face blank. She pursed her lips before turning to Daryl once again.

"It's on you, Daryl. You freaking redneck," she mumbled before storming out of the room.

Daryl sighed and looked down at me, frowning almost apologetically. He sat down, putting his head in his hands. I patted his back, sighing. What was he thinking? I wanted to know so bad what was going on his head. He loved Michonne. Was he hurt?

"I'm sorry, babe," I whispered, my hand traveling up and down his back, trying to comfort him.

He looked over at me, his chin resting on his hands so he looked almost like an innocent kid.

"You packed?"

I nodded. We weren't staying long. Just a few days. Two day drive down, staying a day, and then a two drive back up. Easy.

"We're leaving tomorrow morning," he stood up, his chair screeching against the floor as he did, and left the room.

I looked over at Tray, Raul, and Morgan, eyebrows raised.

"Well," I commented nonchalantly.

"Well, indeed, little girl," Raul shook his head. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not a little girl. Do not call me that," I insisted. If I was old enough to get pregnant, be somewhat married, and be nineteen, then I was damn too old to be called little girl by this thirty nine year old asshole.

"Raul," Morgan sighed, "quit looking down on her."

Raul had been pissed ever since he found out I was pregnant. Apparently, Daryl and I weren't actually married (we weren't any less married than he and Morgan. We just didn't have a certificate to prove it.) and I was pregnant out of wedlock, which meant I had had sex out of wedlock. Which meant I was a whore.

"I'm not," he said huffily, standing up and giving one last glare at the three of us before exiting the room.

"God, this is stressful," I leaned back, placing my hand absentmindedly on my stomach. I knew I wouldn't be able to feel anything, I had only recently gotten a sort of bump. But still, it comforted me. I was determined not to lose this one.

"Don't go then," Tray said quietly. He hadn't spoken the entire time, always was quiet during these type of discussions.

I looked at him sympathetically. When I was having my nightmares about the prison, he would come talk to me. We'd grown pretty close. I now considered him and Morgan and pretty big part of my life.

Though I knew I shouldn't consider anyone a big part of my life. Too many dangerous things happen for me to adopt a friendship like I have with these two. And don't even get started on Robert, one of Raul and Morgan's sons, who has grown attached to Daryl. And Daryl to he.

"I have to," I finally answered. It was hard to explain, but both Daryl and I wanted to go very badly. Obviously.

We had waited forever, too. We had originally made the plan to leave about two months ago. And just over a month ago I found out I was pregnant. Daryl had stayed as long as possible, never actually saying why. I thought it was because he knew something could happen to us out there. We may never come back. And he wanted to leave them in the best conditions possible.

But, this morning we decided to tell everyone we were going. And it's been chaos ever since.

"Kyra," Morgan laid a hand on my arm, sitting beside me. She smiled gently like she was dealing with someone who mentally hurt.

"Yes?" I asked too sweetly.

"If Daryl is making you go..."

She assumed that a lot. That just because I was young that meant Daryl controlled me. When she first came, she even asked if Daryl had raped me. If that's why I was with him.

"Morgan," I put my hand on top of hers, "I love you and Tray. I really do. But we have to do this. I have to do this. Meaning I want to." I clarified. She frowned slightly. Not the answer she wanted. "You understand right?"

"Of course," she nodded. She probably didn't, but at least she was trying.

"I don't. I thought they hated you. Why would you want to make sure they're ok?" Tray asked, leaning across the table.

"Because, Tray. They saved me. Rick saved me. I would have died, just like my father. But they took me in. They're the reason Daryl and I are together. I made friends there. Who, yes, may have stabbed me in the back, but I feel like I owe a sort of debt to them, and I need to see if they're at least alive," I tried to will him to understand, but he just shook his head.

"As long as Michonne isn't going..."

I sighed and stood up.

"Just... I don't expect you to understand. I really don't. But, we're leaving tomorrow morning and I would really like to go knowing the people I'm leaving behind don't hate me."

"Oh, honey," Morgan quickly scooted out of her chair. "We don't hate you. Raul may-"

"Not Raul." I was blunt. She knew I didn't care for Raul. "Just you two and Michonne. I'm not worried about the kids. I know they'll still care for me. It's the three of you. You're so torn up over this. We'll be back in less than a week."

Before I could do anything, Morgan grabbed me in a hug, and I found myself hugging her back.

"We don't hate you," she repeated.

I pulled away and left the room before either of them could see that I was crying.

I sped walked up to my room, where I didn't find Daryl. I sighed and rolled my eyes, going straight to the closet and double checking my bags.

It was gonna be a long night.

/

Yay! First chapter! I'm still going to do the same schedule of every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Xx


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO  
"Kyra, wake up," Daryl grunted above me. I slowly opened my eyes, barely able to see in the dark. Was it even morning yet?

"What?" I groaned, rolling over.

"No, you can't go back to sleep. We're leaving," he shook me gently, hovering over me and trapping me with his arms.

"Why?" I whined, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him down. I buried my face in his neck and closed my eyes again. I wasn't a morning person.

"We're leaving. C'mon I don't have time to play around," he pried me away from him, earning my nails the right to claw against him as they went.

"Daryl, honey, just a few more minutes," I let go of him and rolled around again.

He sighed loudly and got off the bed. I listened as he walked across the floor.

"I'm coming back in a few minutes and you best be up and ready to leave."

The opening and closing of our door and then he was gone.

I groaned and rolled on my back, slowly opening my eyes. Why did we have to leave so freaking early?

I got up, even though I was annoyed, and changed from my pajama pants to some dirty jeans. I left the sweatshirt I was sleeping in on and ran my fingers through my hair to try and brush it out. It probably didn't work.

It was getting longer, though. Not too much. It was almost touching my shoulders in the front. That was pretty exciting...

I went to the bathroom and turned on the little battery powered lamp on the sink and brushed my teeth. God knows if Daryl did that yet. Or how long Daryl had been up. Or if he ever went to sleep...

By the time I was done, Daryl walked through the door, jeans and his biker jacket over a flannel.

"You ready?" he asked, hanging halfway through the door. I nodded, looking around the room.

This wouldn't be the last time I seen it, I would make sure of that.

"Let's go then."

"Why are we leaving so early?" I asked as I walked across the room to him.

"Because I want to get out as soon as possible."

Liar. He was trying to avoid Michonne and Raul.

Sure enough as we walked out the front door, Michonne was waiting on the porch. He didn't say anything to her, just picked up a bag off the steps and walked over to the truck and threw it in the back.

I stopped and looked at her, my heart breaking as she stared down Daryl. Why did she have to care so much? Why couldn't she just let us go?

The door opened behind me and Tray walked out, Morgan and Robert behind him.

"We're you gonna leave and not say bye?" he asked, half smiling.

I shrugged, not sure of what to say. I looked at Robert, who's hands were wrapped around Tray's leg.

Daryl came back up the steps, and everything was oddly silent. We all just stared at each other.

I leaned closer to Daryl and he possessively put his arm around me, as if he was telling everyone we were going and there wasn't anything they could do about it.

"Well," I started, but was quickly interrupted.

"Don't go."

"What?" Daryl asked, annoyance or anger, I wasn't sure which one, escaped into his words.

"Don't," she stood up.

"Krya, get in the truck," his arm slid from my shoulders.

"Daryl.." I tried.

"Seriously, Daryl, don't go. You don't know what's going to happen out there." her voice got progressively louder.

"Michonne," Tray warned.

"Get in the truck," Daryl turned, his hand gripping my arm. He started down the steps, all but dragging me down with him.

"Daryl!" she nearly screamed. "Don't go! Think of Kyra!"

"I am!" he hollered back, not turning.

"She's pregnant! You'll kill the baby, Daryl! Think of the baby!" she charged down the steps after us.

Daryl let go of my arm as he swung around.

"Don't threaten my baby," his voice was low.

My heart picked up it's pace as I looked at everyone's face, Raul had just came through the door, looking sleepy and confused.

"I didn't, Daryl. I'm trying to look out for it," Michonne explained herself.

"Get in the truck," Daryl once again demanded.

"I want to say bye," I demanded back, but my voice trembled and I didn't look as brave as I wanted to.

"No."

"Yes, Daryl."

"Get in the truck, Kyra."

"Let her at least say bye! You're going to send her to her death! Might as well!" Michonne crossed her arms. Daryl was livid.

"Michonne!" Morgan shouted, her hand covering her mouth. My heart sped up. It was going to fly out of my chest.

"Daryl, please don't do this. Just stay!"

"Michonne, we're going," I said firmly.

"Kyra, for gods sake, get in the damn truck," he begged.

I ignored him and walked over to Robert, bending down and holding my arms out. He ran into them, his small arms wrapped around my neck. I squeezed him, feeling pricks of tears. This would not be the last time I hugged him.

"Hey, you're gonna take care of Bonnet for me, right?" I asked, my face buried in his curly hair.

"Yeah, I promise." he nodded his head and I pulled away.

"Be careful, ok? I'll see you in a week," I said with confidence. He smiled and nodded.

The next person I hugged was Morgan. She clung to me like I was a daughter, although she was only ten or so years older than me.

By the time we let go, we were both teary eyed. This would not be the last time I hugged her.

As soon as my arms were free of Morgan, Tray had me in his grip.

He hugged me tightly, and I hugged him back. Forget teary eyed, I was now crying.

"We love you, Ky. Don't forget that, ok? You're gonna come back, ok?"

"This won't be the last time we hug," I agreed, pulling away.

Tray smiled down at me and wiped the tears from my eyes like a big brother.

"This won't be. I'm serious, don't listen to Michonne. You'll be fine. You'll come back. And the baby, Kyra, the baby will be fine."

"Thanks, Tray," I nodded, my hands awkwardly by my side, his hands planted on either side of my face.

"I love you, sweets. See you in a week," he landed a kiss on my forehead before letting me go.

I looked at Michonne. She wasn't really the huggy type.

"Bye, Michonne."

She didn't answer.

I walked away to the truck, Daryl in the front seat.

"What took you so long?" he grunted as I crawled in the front seat.

"Just go," I sighed.

But, as soon as he started the truck, Raul was in front of it, waving his hands.

"Son of a bitch!" Daryl cried out, hitting the steering wheel. He rolled his window down. "Move!"

"Let me pray over you three!"

Three. Daryl, me, the baby.

"Raul, we don't have time for this."

"It'll take two minutes! Just, please get out of the car!"

Daryl looked at me. "I'm gonna fucking kill this prick," he whispered before angrily opening the door.

I followed him, glad for the delay.

Don't get me wrong, I wanted to go as badly as Daryl. But I didn't want to leave everyone. Michonne's warning had just creeped me out. I would be back in a week.

Daryl didn't want to. You could tell by the look on his face he did not want to get into this prayer circle but, he did. Wether it was to shut Raul up or if it was because he really did think the baby needed prayers, he agreed to hold the of Raul, who held Michonne's hand, who held Morgan's hand, who held Robert's hand, who held Tray's hand, who held my hand, and I held Daryl's.

Michonne was all but shaking, eyeing the ground. She didn't want us to go. Why? Why did she not want us to go so bad? Was it a bad gut feeling? Was she afraid something would happen to us out there?

"Dear Heavenly Father, I come before you this morning to ask you to watch over this group..."

Everybody's heads were bowed, except for mine. I looked at everyone's faces, looked up at Daryl's, who's jaw was clenched, looked over at Tray's, who was squeezing my hand.

I just wished the other two boys were out here so I could say bye to them. I would miss them too.

It's only a week.

"... keep them safe on their journey, lord. Please, keep Kyra and her baby out of harms way..."

A sniff. I looked over to see Morgan crying. She was scared for us too. Everyone was. They just hid it better.

"... And in Jesus' name I pray, amen."

Everyone's heads tilted up and we dropped hands.

We wordlessly got back in the truck and as I buckled up, Daryl sighed loudly.

"They're good people."

"Yeah, they are."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE  
The sun was finally coming up. We were more than an hour into our drive and neither one of us had talked since.

We both needed to do this, but we also wanted to make sure that no one was mad when we left. We failed. Very hard.

"You still sleepy?" Daryl asked, the first words spoken on the trip.

"Yeah," I nodded. And my back was hurting. But I wasn't going to nag him. He was already under a lot of pressure.

"We'll stop somewhere along the way and you can rest."

"What about you? You'll need to sleep."

"I will. A little bit."

I nodded and leaned against the window. It was going to be awhile before that time.

"You're ok, right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answered him. Was I? "Michonne just seemed pretty damn sure I'm gonna die this week, so." I shrugged and looked over at him.

"Come here," he sighed, his right arm extended towards me.

I unbuckled my belt and crawled over, hugging his waist and resting my head against his shoulder. He put his arm around me, something that 99.9% of the time made me feel safe.

"You're gonna be fine, Kyra. I swear. Michonne should have just shut up. I don't know what the hell is wrong with her."

I nodded against him, my hand slipping in the front of his shirt and running across his stomach.

"I'm just ready to be there. This is gonna be a long ass drive," I complained. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be naggy."

"I think you have a pretty good excuse," his hand ran up and down my covered arm.

"Yeah, I guess."

After a few minutes I fell asleep once again, pressed against Daryl.

I didn't know what we would do once we got to the prison, if anyone would notice us, or how long we'd stay. Maybe Daryl had it figured out, maybe he didn't.

We would be having a week nearly completely alone, so that was a bonus. After I got over my weird worrying, that I was pinning as a symptom of my pregnancy, I'm sure I could actually enjoy this.

It was so weird. It was like this was our vacation. Our honeymoon or get away trip. But, it wasn't like anything better was going to come alone.

The next time I woke up, it was raining pretty hard. My head was in Daryl's lap and I could see bags in the floor board where I had been sitting.

"When'd it start raining?" I asked, sitting up. Daryl's hand slid off my back, where it had been resting. I tucked my legs under me and wrapped my hands around his arm, resting my chin on his shoulder so I was looking at the side of his face.

"'Bout an hour ago. I stopped and put most of the stuff in the tool box. That's the stuff that wouldn't fit," he nodded in the direction of my back pack and a plastic bag.

"Mmkay," I mumbled, my eye lids still heavy from just waking up.

"Why are you so close?" he gave me a funny look, his eyes wandered from the road for just a minute.

"'Cause I like looking at you," I joked before leaning back. He shook his head, a small smile on his face.

We drove in silence for awhile and I vaguely wondered what time it was or how long we'd been on the road.

After what seemed like hours, probably was, Daryl spoke up again.

"So, you getting hungry?" he asked, his arm laid lazily on the back of the seat.

I didn't know what it was about car rides with Daryl, but I always got the 'itch'.

I had a response to that question I was not going to say..

"Yeah," I sighed, having to metaphorically bite my tongue to keep from saying what I really wanted to.

The horniness, or itch, came last time with the pregnancy. Unfortunately, Daryl was away. And I wasn't about to be unfaithful. And even if I had wanted to, I hated everyone who voted against Daryl, which included all men. And they hated me. I was a whore.

"We'll stop soon and eat something. Then we'll head back out."

"Mmkay," I nodded, crossing my legs.

"You ok?"

"Yup," I nodded, feeling flustered and hot. I quickly pulled my hoodie over my head, only to realize I was only wearing a bra underneath. I made a sound of annoyance and pulled it back on.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," I said quickly, fanning myself.

"I can turn the ac on..." He trailed off, raising an eyebrow. He leaned over and turned it on.

"Not gonna help," I added, shaking my head. Although I leaned over one of the vents, pulling my neckline down and letting the air blow on my chest.

"Good God, Kyra. You're horny!" he exclaimed, laughing. He bent over the steering, cracking up.

"Shut up," I shot back. It wasn't like I could help it.

"What's up with you and this truck?"

"I don't know, but lord, it's gonna kill me," I shook my head, leaning back in the seat.

Daryl's arm snaked around my shoulders, his fingers ran inside the loose line of my sweatshirt, running over my collar bone.

"That's not funny," I mumbled, although I leaned my head back, stretching my neck, to give him better access.

"I'm not playing," but he was smiling slightly, his eyes darting back and forth from the road to me.

"Perv," I threw out, leaning forward as his hand lightly squeezed the back of my neck before running up through my hair, then trailing down to my ear.

"Hoe," he shot back, his hand dipped down the back of my shirt, messing with my bra straps.

"Pedo," I joked, although my breath was shaky and thin.

"That's cute," he said sarcastically.

"It's true."

"Go to hell."

"Will you go with me?" I looked up, playfully wagging my eyebrows.

"Depends."

"There will be beer."

"In that case," he unhooked my bra and I let out a small gasp, "I'll go where you go."

"You're so romantic," I playfully swooned, leaning my head on his shoulder so my back was to him. It gave him the perfect shot to dip down in my bra. My breath hitched for only a moment, then I was back to normal.

"Good lord, we're gonna wreck..." he returned his hand to the steering wheel and I leaned back up, pouting.

"We were gonna stop soon..." I shrugged.

He gave me a look, returning his arm to the back of the seat.

"I think I like you when you're pregnant."

"This isn't anything. I'm about to get fat. My ankles will swell. I'll probably cuss you out a minimum of twice a day. Then cry when you say you don't love me after. I'm gonna have back pain like no other. I'll probably blame you. Oh, and my face will bloat..." I trailed off, shrugging.

"Ok, I like you like this when you're pregnant," he corrected himself, smiling down at me.

Less than an hour later we pulled into a empty parking lot of what looked like an apartment building.

"Lunch time," Daryl sighed, looking up through the window at the rainy sky.

"Maybe we should just stay here. The rains just gonna get worse..." I suggested.

"Mm, I know what you're trying to do, but that may actually be a good idea with this rain. I'd hate to wreck," he absentmindedly eyed my stomach. "Damn, this gonna put us behind."

"It's ok," I leaned up, putting both hands on either of his shoulders and gently massaged them. "We'll be fine."

"Mmhm.." he was off, his head tilted down, forehead pressed into the steering wheel.

"Daryl?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sleepy, hon?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, we can just settle here for tonight and head back out tomorrow. Ok?"

"Kay."

My hands ran their way down his shoulders to his chest and my arms hung loosely around him, my face pressed against his shoulder blade.

"It's far past noon. Probably almost dinner time, really. We did good today."

"Yeah."

"Don't be stressed," I sighed, kissing the cloth where his shoulder would have been.

"It's hard not to be," he grunted, leaning up.

I let go of him and sat back.

"Well, we need to do this," he sighed looking at the large apartment complex from the truck.

"We can eat first."

"Yeah. Foods in the floor," he gestured towards one of the bags. I picked up two cans, one fruit cocktail one ravioli.

"I call fruit cocktail," I said lamely, handing him the ravioli and the can opener.

He opened both cans as I got out forks and we are in silence. He finished before me.

"Wait here while I do this, ok? Lock the doors. If you see anyone, hide in the floorboard. If you see a walker... Hide in the floorboard 'cause I forgot your gun."

"Daryl!" I whined.

"Sorry! It may be in the tool box, but I'm doubting it. But listen, I'm serious. I'll be in and out. Be careful."

"You be careful."

I leaned up and he met me halfway, planting a small kiss on my lips.

It lasted a little longer than it should have and he pulled away, getting out of the truck with moans and groans. The rain made it's way in, just barely, before he slammed the door. By the time he got his bow out of the back he was soaked. He leaned down into the driver window, motioning me to lock the doors. I did as I was told, giving him the 'ok' hand symbol and then he was off.

I sighed and leaned back, finishing my fruit cocktail.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR  
Michonne's POV

Tray had tried to comfort me all day, telling me they'd be fine. As if I wasn't already annoyed.

Daryl's last words played over and over in my mind, when he didn't think Kyra was paying attention, when she was hugging Robert bye.

"If we're not back in a week, don't come looking for us. Keep everyone here safe."

He had whispered it, his voice low and deep. All this time I had thought he was mad at me. He just wanted to keep me safe. Did he feel it too?

I wasn't sure what Kyra and he had planned out. It was probably her idea, although if it was he had agreed very happily. But I didn't like it. They needed to be safe and dry. It had been raining all day.

My bedroom door opened and I knew that Tray had just walked in.

"Get away from the window, Michonne," he nagged me, "You're gonna get a cold."

"It's been raining for awhile. How far do you think they got in it? I know Daryl won't drive in it if it gets too bad, and it's awful out there."

"Michonne..." he sighed, coming over and standing by me. "They'll be fine. Daryl's smart. Kyra's smart. They know boundaries. I know this is the first trip they've taken without you, but..."

"It's not jealousy," I said sharply. I wish I wasn't so mean to him sometimes.

"I know. I wasn't saying that. You're just worried, I get that. But, Michonne, Kyra isn't that little girl you rescued from that man anymore. She's grown up. Not a lot, but she is. And Daryl is a survivor. As long as they don't get separated, they'll be fine." He put his arm around me and I leaned into him.

"That's what I'm afraid of. If anything bad happens, Daryl will want to help. She'll want to help. Chances are, they'll end up on opposite sides of the prison. And nobody likes Kyra there, Tray. They hate her. Carol tried to freaking kill her and Kyra broke her nose for it. But, seriously. I don't want her even talking to Beth."

"I don't know who these Beth or Carol people are, but if Kyra can break Carol's nose, I think she can hold her own."

"She was fueled that night, though. That was the night they sent Daryl away. Carol had called her a temptress and a whore and Kyra exploded. But as soon as Daryl left, that fire was gone. She was just broken..." I trailed off, remembering Kyra and Daryl hugging, having a last kiss, and how hard it was for her to let go of him. How scared she was. Yet how brave she looked. Up until he drove off, was out of sight. When her knees buckled and I had to pick her up, I thought she wouldn't make it past a week before she ended up losing the baby. But she was strong. For awhile.

"I know I wasn't there, but-"

"You weren't. It was terrible. You should have seen her, Tray. For the first two weeks it was like she was crazy. She didn't talk to anyone but Beth, she didn't eat unless we made her, she didn't sleep. Nothing. She's not Kyra without Daryl. And if they get separated..." I shook my head.

"Can you tell me what went down, exactly? I know you've told me before, but I don't remember."

"Yeah. I mean, it's a pretty short story. We took in a bunch of people from that hell hole and Kyra was one of them. Her and Daryl had no common interest really up until someone told him she hunted. Then suddenly they were spending all their time together. It seemed harmless, he even took her on a raid. But, then Carol and Beth came to Rick and said that they knew something and Rick called a meeting and some of us sat down and they told us that Kyra and Daryl were sleeping together. At the time, Kyra was only seventeen. So, Rick, being someone who used to be a man of the law, flipped out. He drug Daryl and Kyra into the library and questioned them and they were obviously guilty. So, he was gonna throw them out. But, Kyra..." I sighed, and looked at Tray, frowning. "Kyra was pregnant. And she hadn't even gotten the chance to tell Daryl yet. So, they just voted Daryl out. For six months only. But, after the baby was born, Kyra planned on leaving. I don't blame her. I wouldn't have wanted to stay there. But, it killed me. She hung out with Beth. Constantly. It's like she didn't know that Beth had been the one to snitch. And I wasn't about to tell her. She was already going through a lot. And I mean, a lot. There were people giving her dirty looks, gossiping about her, and I don't know if one escaped my grasp, but notes on her door that I would have to rip off and throw away. It was terrible...

"But, she lost the baby. And that was even worse. That night we left. Just me and her. She wanted to bring Beth and I'm glad she didn't..."

"So, that's it? You guys ended up here?"

"No... You know her scar?"

"Yeah. I mean it's not totally noticeable. But yeah."

"Well, Daryl found this place a few hours from here. The people there were weird. And the husband was a pervert. He... I shouldn't tell you this. Kyra is ashamed of it and I don't blame her... The guy there, he raped her. And it was just terrible..." I shook my head.

"I shouldn't have left her. Daryl and I were told to go find some stuff and we just did it. I knew better. I knew that he was a pervert..."

"You couldn't have guessed-" he tried to comfort me.

"Yeah. I could have. That's what I'm saying about separating Daryl and Kyra. She got hurt last time it happened. After, she had trust issues. Bad. They couldn't touch each other and sometimes I would find Daryl sleeping outside of the tents we were staying in. It was awful. They fought constantly. You know Daryl's motorcycle? She used to ride that with him constantly. She would take my car. It was awful..."

"Well, they seem ok now..."

"Obviously. She's pregnant."

"Michonne, don't worry about them. I swear, they'll be fine. They'll come back in a week and be unharmed. Daryl won't let Kyra out of his sight."

I looked at him in the eyes, he was only an inch or two taller than me.

"I hope so."

/

I'm sorry for the short chapters. They'll be longer soon. Pinky promise.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE  
I slumped in the seat, wondering what time it was. Or how long Daryl had been inside the apartment. If we were lucky, there'd only be a few walkers and he'd be right back out, telling me it was ok to come in.

I wrapped my arms around myself tighter, watching my breath fog up. It was too cold to be March. Then it again, it was late in the evening and raining.

It was probably because of the rain that I didn't hear the walker, not until it was against my window where my face had been inches from.

I let out a startled scream, jumping back. It was a male, brown hair, or what was left of it.

It groaned, pressing against the glass.

"Shit!" I cursed, looking for something to kill it with. Nada.

I backed away from the window, pressing my back to the other one.

Come on, Daryl. Where the hell are you? I thought, glancing over my shoulder to make sure there weren't anymore coming. Looks like it was just this loner.

"God, you stupid freaking walker, why can't you back the hell up?" I sighed, talking to it like it could understand me.

It's hands raked across the glass and that i shouldn't be scared. As long as it didn't get into the truck, I'd be fine. But I was still insanely scared.

My hand instantly flew to my stomach, feeling the small bump.

"Daryl!" I yelled, doubting he heard me. "Daryl Dixon!"

The window started to crack against the pressure of the walker, just a little bit.

"Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God," I started to panic, pressed against the door.

I would have just gotten out of the truck, but I was afraid more walkers would come. And I would just back the truck up, but I had no clue how to drive this thing. I'd just kill myself in the process.

"Daryl!" I screamed again, debating on honking the horn or not. It could just cause more walkers to show up...

Damn it, I just wished I had my knife. It was in the back in Daryl's bag.

Either way, Daryl wouldn't want me trying to kill the thing while pregnant. I pretty much wasn't allowed to do anything since we found out. I couldn't hurt the baby, he would say.

The windows spider web design grew a little more and I began to panic. The apartment wasn't that far away. I could get out and run and pray Daryl had killed any walkers that may have been inside the apartment.

But there were puddles everywhere. Cars piled everywhere. And I'm sure there were walkers everywhere.

There were a few outcomes that could happen: 1) I could make it safely inside the apartment and be fine. 2) I could run, slip, fall, and let the walker catch up. 3) I could run, slip, fall, and land on my stomach. 4) I could debate too long about how to get away from this thing and it could crash into the window. Then I'd just be screwed.

There were other possibilities, too.

As the glass cracked a little more, I had an eery thought: what if Daryl hadn't come out yet because he'd finally lost the battle between the living and the dead?

I felt panic rise up in my throat.

"Daryl!" I screamed, hitting the horn.

Shouldn't have done that. Nope. I let the panic take me over, and now I've probably attracted more walkers.

Oh God, he wasn't coming out. If he had heard the horn, he would have came out.

"Shit," I whispered as the windows crack went all the way up the side of the window. "Please, Mr. Walker, don't eat me."

I knew it couldn't understand me. But it felt good to say it out loud.

Suddenly, the walkers head bobbed against the window before sliding off, Daryl stood behind it, jerking his knife out of it's skull.

My eyes widened and I jumped over, opening the passenger side door, and flung myself into his arms.

"Why the hell did you honk that horn?" he asked, not hugging me back. I was getting soaked from the rain.

"Oh my God, Daryl, I thought you were dead!"

He sighed and hugged me back.

Sure, I was being a bit dramatic. But I really did think he was dead. And that I was fixing to join him in the partaking of dead as a walker.

"Come on, Kyra. You're gonna get soaked," he shook his head, pulling away and pulling my hood over my head like I was a kid.

He opened the toolbox and took out a bag, slung over his shoulder, and grabbed my hand.

We walked across the parking lot, getting soaked. The baby would probably freeze before we got there.

But when we did, I could see what took him so long. There were three walker bodies piled just outside of the doorway, out of our way.

"Only three?" I asked, stopping to stare at them.

"Two. That one came around the corner while I was piling the other ones," he pushed me through the door, into the dry but cold little apartment.

He threw the bag in the floor and took out a blanket, throwing it to me.

"We're gonna fucking freeze tonight," he shook his head, throwing another blanket on the back of the small green couch.

"Can I do anything to help?" I asked, walking over to the blanket.

"Take your clothes off."

"What?" I snapped my head towards him. I mean, I guess that could keep us warm, but damn.

"No, not like that, Kyra. You're gonna be even more cold if you stand around in those wet clothes. So, take them off."

"Yes sir..." I giggled, throwing my sweatshirt off over my head and laying it out on an empty side table in the hopes of it drying soon.

He looked up at me, still crouched on the floor, as I was unzipping my pants.

"Please tell me you have another bra?"

"Um, I didn't pack one, no..." I shook my head.

"Well, your bras soaked too. But I guess it'll just have to be that way," he shrugged.

I looked down at my bra, only a few drops of water on them from my hair.

"Daryl..."

"Yeah?"

"It's not wet."

"It was worth a try," he winked, turning back towards the bag.

"Pervert," I threw the jeans I had just wiggled out of at him, hitting him in the side.

"At least you're legal," he made a bad joke, shaking his head.

I walked over, freezing in my purple bra and green cotton undies. I bent down behind him, putting my arms around him and pressed against his back.

"Whatcha doing back there?" he mumbled, my forehead pressed against his shoulder blade.

"You're not a pervert. Or a pedophile."

"Ok?" he chuckled, looking back down at the bag.

"I just want you to know that. Just incase."

"Incase what?"

"Just incase," I repeated, kissing his shoulder.

"Ok, sunshine. I think it's time you changed into something warm," he handed me a pair of sweatpants.

I sighed and let go of him, taking the pants.

After both Daryl and I were changed and slightly dry, we set up the couch. It was one with recliner seats on the ends, so I pushed it back to sleep like that and Daryl had his head in my lap.

I played with his hair, his eyes closed and one hand under his head.

He looked peaceful as he slipped into his sleep and I felt a pang of sadness.

Had I caused all his added stress? The reason he couldn't sleep sometimes? The reason he was always on edge?

Would he have been better off if I would have never been rescued?

The answer was definitely yes.

A better question would be if it was worth it.

"If I die," I whispered, brushing his hair away from his face, "please don't cry, my sweets. If I die," I traced his brows bone with my thumb, "just let me be. I don't want you to be the one to kill me..." I trailed off, thinking of how much easier it would be for him if I did die.

Or, rather, if I had never existed in the first place.

I soon, too, fell asleep, the patter of the rain and Daryl's snores lulling me the way to my troubled dreams.

/

Sorry for the short chapters. They'll be longer soon, I swear.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Daryl's POV

I woke up before her. I should have just woken her up, but I decided to let her sleep. We needed to get an early start and it was probably three or four in the morning. She could just go to sleep in the truck.

I quietly lifted my head, grabbing her pocket watch of the small table. It wasn't completely accurate, but it was only off, I figured, by a couple minutes or so. I had set it at noon.

I couldn't see what the numbers said, so I got up and walked over to the bag where I kept my flashlight. I was quiet enough from years of hunting that I knew how to walk without making too much noise. Sure enough, it read three sixteen.

I sighed and turned off the flashlight, placing the pocket watch on the floor by my bag.

I grabbed the pants I had let dry last night. They weren't as stiff as I thought they'd be.

I took off the stupid pajama pants Kyra made me wear, then sighed for mentally calling them stupid. She just wanted me to be comfortable...

Once I was changed into jeans and a flannel, I placed the pocket watch in my pocket, along with a bandana. I shoved the bag full of everything but Kyra's clothes she would change into if anything happened to her other ones... And zipped it up.

I threw it over my shoulder, grabbed my bow where I had left it the day before, before running out to see what happened to Kyra, and quietly opened the door.

It stopped raining last night. Thank God. I didn't like driving in heavy rain with that beat up piece of shit I call a truck. Especially with Kyra being pregnant.

The ride was actually probably only a twelve hour drive. But, I knew that Kyra would want me to stop and rest so I told her and Michonne it would probably be two days.

Michonne knew I was lying.

I opened the tool box and threw the bag down in it, taking my knife out before zipping it up again. I gently placed my bow down, along with the few arrows I managed to salvage.

I grabbed the flash light and slammed the lid down, getting left over rain sprinkled on me. I sighed and wiped my face before heading off back to the apartment.

Once inside, I quietly went into the small kitchen, looking for trash bags. That window would probably bring some air in. I was just gonna tape a bag over it until we could get another truck or something.

I found a few bags and brought them along, already having duct tape in the truck. Before I headed back out, I hooked my knife on my belt so I didn't have to carry it, checked on Kyra, and left again.

I quickly taped the bag to the window, cursing the walker for making me have to do so. It was actually a few feet from me, the ugly piece of shit was laying face down.

"Wish I could be you, buddy," I mumbled to it, checking the window again before throwing the rest of the bags and the duct tape in the back beside the tool box.

I went back inside for the third time, going straight to the kitchen.

I checked for any food. Nothing.

"Daryl?" Kyra's soft voice called for me. I could tell she just woke up. I knew that if I waited too long to answer she would panic. "Daryl?" she called again, just a little panic escaped into her voice.

"I'm coming," I called back, feeling guilty for not answering right away.

I walked into the living room, where she was sitting, looking confused, with the blankets bunched around her waist.

"How long have you been up?" she croaked, as I sat down beside her.

"Thirty minutes," I guessed, putting my arm around her when she leaned into me. I absentmindedly took in her scent. Somehow she always smelled like summer.

"How early is it?"

"Three or four," I put my head on top of hers, kissing her hair.

She sighed loudly, pulling the blankets up around her and me.

"Why don't you wake me up when you do?"

"Because I can do what I need to on my own. You can just rest."

"You should be the one resting, Daryl. You're gonna be the one driving all day."

"I wouldn't have to if you'd drive," I teased her, squeezing her lightly. Only 'cause I knew she liked it when I did that. Something about it made her feel better or safe or something.

"You know I can't drive," she mumbled, her breathing slowed and I guessed her eyes were closed.

"You can sleep in the truck, sunshine. And one day, I'll teach you."

She moaned and I let go of her, watching as she sat up, hair a mess.

She got up, stretching, and began folding the blankets.

"Grab your spare clothes and we can leave."

"Ok," she said sleepily as she handed me the blankets. She grabbed them, scanning the room to make sure she didn't leave anything, and turned towards me.

We walked outside in the gray light, her shoes she never took off last night made soft noises with every step.

Eventually, she would have a bigger stomach.

I was worried about the baby getting sick or not having enough food. But, there was enough food back at the house. We'd just have to make bigger supply raids, and have more of them.

"Kyra," I began starting the truck, she sat sleepily beside me, her head titled back, "you remember your first raid?" I asked. The truck came to life and I put it in gear.

"Mmhm," she nodded, looking up at me. "It was terrible."

I chuckled and turned the dim headlights on.

"It wasn't that bad."

"Do you remember it? Because how I remembered it is I embarrassed myself and nearly died and two people did die. It was awful."

"Ok, so it was bad. But, good things came out of it," I nudged her. She half smiled and wrapped her hands around my arms and laid her head on my shoulder. She kissed the top of my shoulder, and although my shirt got in between her lips and my skin, I felt the familiar rush.

She was so small, sometimes I forgot how short and tiny she was. Her hands were only about half of mine and she could barely squeeze them around my arm.

Within a few minutes of driving she was asleep, her leg crossed over mine. My hand moved up and down her thigh, comforting her.

When she woke up, she would be happier. I would make it so she was.

As I drove I thought about Little Ass Kicker. Soon enough I would have a llttle ass kicker of my own.

I was pretty worried about that. Lori died in child birth. And Kyra already had problems with the last one. It wasn't that I wouldn't be able to stand to live if she died. It was that I wouldn't want to.

/

So, I try so hard to get inside Daryl's mind. But it's really really hard. I either make him sound almost too sophisticated or too redneck. I can't get in between. This was my crack at it... Ugh.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN  
I woke up when we hit a bump in the road and slowly sat up, pushing my hair out of my face.

"Morning, sunshine," Daryl mumbled as I sat up, his hand still on my leg.

"Mm.." I nodded, squinting against the new found sun. "What time is it?"

Daryl removed his hand on my leg to fish out the pocket watch. He tossed it to me and placed his hand on the steering wheel, using the extra one to prop up on the window.

"Twelve," I said out loud, although it was a little past. "I've been asleep for awhile, huh?"

"Yeah. You're starting to get a kind of snore. It's funny," he smiled, hands switching again so his was once again on my thigh. I playfully hit him, biting his arm.

"Ow! Damn it, you're like a walker. Gotta quit that shit..." he shook his head, mockingly pushing me away.

"What time do you think we'll get there? Or is not gonna be until tomorrow?" I asked, slouching in my seat, legs sprawled out in the floor board.

"I'd say not until tomorrow. It may be early tomorrow though... You know, I'm not for sure," he shrugged.

"I'm getting kind of stir crazy. We need to do something soon so we don't get bored to the point of tears," I added, hoping to secretly delay our arrival.

"You don't think I'm fun?" he mockingly whined.

"Oh, hell no. You're pretty boring, babe," I retorted. "You're only good for sex."

He scoffed, pushing me. I bounced back, laying my head on his shoulder, still a bit sleepy.

"I'm kiddin'," I added, feeling kind of bad.

"I know," he elbowed my side, letting me know that he hadn't gotten his feeling hurt. It was Daryl. I doubt he would have any way.

A few hours passed, light conversation made them go by steadily. We stopped for a few minutes to eat before getting back on the road.

"I'm really sick of doing all the driving," he shook his head, making a tsk noise playfully.

"Yeah, well. You know me," I shrugged.

"I mean, I don't mind that you don't know how. But why the hell did your parents never teach you how?" he asked, giving me a strange look. I sighed, hands crossed on my stomach.

"Because my parents were super strict. No permit meant no driving, what so ever. And I never even got my permit."

Daryl grimaced.

"Were you old enough?"

"Nada," I shook my head, halfway frowning.

"Dear god, that makes me feel like such a pedophile..." he shook his head, retracting his arm from my shoulders.

I looked at him, eyes squinted, for a moment.

"Why?"

"Because, you're so young-"

"Daryl, good lord. If you're gonna start having these thoughts now, maybe you should have had them a few months ago before I began carrying your child..." I shook my head.

"It's not that I'm backing out! It's just, I hate thinking about it. I used to call you 'kid'. And now we're sleeping together."

"What?" I asked sarcastically, eyebrows raised.

"You know what I meant. We're not just sleeping together. We... I suck with words you know that, Kyra..." he sighed loudly, trailing off.

"Hey," I squeezed him arm, "it's ok. I... I guess I knew what you meant."

He nodded, looking frustrated.

"I just... I guess that I'm glad we're together, but I do feel weird about our age differences sometimes..."

I nodded, my hand dropping from his arm to my lap.

We dropped the subject, not speaking for a few hours. There was a very awkward silence as I played with the cassette tapes and he focused on not running in to anything.

But hours went by and eventually I was tired of the silence.

"What was being a hunter like?" I asked, turning Johnny Cash down.

"Huh?"

"What was being a hunter like?" I repeated, looking at my moccasins.

"Weren't you one?"

"Yeah, but that's different. Mine was a hobby. You made it your living."

He waited a minute, thinking about his answer. He stared at the road, squinting. We needed to find him some sunglasses.

"I guess it was the same as your hobby. 'Cept I did it everyday and if I didn't catch anything I put myself in a bind."

I nodded, letting his words sink in.

"That's cool," I nodded.

"Did you just ask that to make it less awkward?"

"Uh, yeah," I nodded.

He snorted, patting my leg.

I grinned and hugged his neck, happily burying my face in his neck.

"Mmm.. You smell weird," I nibbled on his neck, making him shiver.

"Yeah? Well, you're gonna make me wreck. Then we're not gonna care who smells like what," he grunted, his hand grazed the inside of my thigh. It was my turn to shiver.

"I wish I slept without pants," I whispered by his ear, his hand close to my 'girly parts'.

"You can always take them off," he suggested, his voice low. He chuckled slightly, pinching the inside of my thigh before patting the top of my leg and removing his hand.

"Tease," I mumbled, sitting back and crossing my arms.

"Well... You're pregnant. I can't- or don't want to do anything that may cause harm to the baby..."

"I doubt it will," I huffed. "But, even if it would, I could do things to you that would cause no harm to the baby, sweets," my arms uncrossed and I sat my hand on his knee, the other hand rested on my own knee.

He shifted uneasily in his seat, both hands gripping the wheel. He stared at the road, not me.

"Hmm, Daryl?" I asked sweetly, my hand danced up his leg, resting higher on his thigh.

His hand left the steering wheel and he propped himself up on the side of the truck, his hand covering his mouth as he drove. He tried to look uninterested.

I leaned up, facing him, with my legs tucked under neath me. My hand left his thigh so it was on his chest, my other hand on his shoulder. My mouth was by his ear, my breath hot.

"I could do anything you wanted me to..." I whispered, my hand unbuttoned a button on his shirt and my hand slid inside, cold against his warmth.

He grunted, and I realized he was biting his finger.

I leaned back laughing, propping my feet up on the dash and folding my hands over my stomach.

His finger dropped, giving me a look of pure surprise.

"Tease," he mumbled, shaking his head. I laughed again, hoping he wasn't mad.

"Hey, you're the one who wouldn't want us to wreck, right?" I grinned, running my hand up his arm.

"You're annoying," he scoffed, batting my hand away.

"I'm also knocked up. So, if you're planning on dumping me on the side of the road, better do it now before you get too attached to your offspring," I patted my stomach playfully and he cracked a smile, shaking his head.

He swung his arm around my neck, pulling me to him.

"I wouldn't get rid of you for nothin'," he squeezed me, kissing the top of my head.

"Good," I smiled, my hands trying to pry his arm away. "'Cause I'm not going down without a fight."

"You'd suck. You can't even get my arm off of you," he loosened up, just a little.

"I'm pregnant!" I used it as an excuse, digging my nails into his arms to try and get him to let me go.

"You're only like two months," he scoffed, letting me go. I straightened my back, giving him a look as I rubbed my neck.

"I didn't even hurt you," he shook his head, his hand going to my neck as he massaged it.

"Oh.." I closed my eyes and leaned on my knees.

It didn't even hurt my neck. But this felt good and I could get used to it.

"I kind of don't want this car trip to end," I sighed, not realizing I had said it.

"Why?" he asked, his hand going to my shoulder and I let out small whispery moan.

"I just like spending time with you," I shrugged, his hand going to the middle of my shoulder blades.

"We don't have to have a car ride for that..."

"I know..."

/

I don't like this chapter. At all.

And I finished it on Valentines day while my brother was sending flowers to this girl he likes and I'm stuck writing fanfiction. FML.

Good think I just mind fuck Daryl and I'm good. *laughs* *starts crying*


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT  
It was day three. According to Daryl, we were about an hour from the prison.

And with every mile I grew more nervous.

I just told myself that it was because I still didn't know what the exact game plan was. I'm pretty sure Daryl wanted to actually talk to Rick. And I kind of wanted to talk to Beth.

Yes. I wanted to talk to Beth. Because I had some things on my mind that I wanted to tell her. Multiple things. I wanted to know why she felt the need to hit on Daryl. I wanted to know why she never told me. I wanted to see if she would admit it. I doubt she would. Beth Greene would never admit to being someone who nearly ruined my small chance at happiness in a world full of sadness and death.

But I just had a bad feeling about everything. It made me want to turn this truck around and head home to Michonne and throw my arms around her and tell her I'd never go back. Ever.

I looked over at Daryl, who's thumb was tapping on the steering wheel. I wondered if there was an imaginary beat going in his head or if it was a nervous tick.

Daryl looked over, placing his arm on my shoulders lazily. I smiled at him, just a small, half hearted smile, my eyes going back to the road. My stomach twisted into knots and my smile faded away slowly.

I couldn't pin what I was nervous about. It wasn't my baby, my hand absentmindedly landed on the little bump. I thought it was ok. I wasn't scared for once again losing it. And as if to answer me, my heart seemed to skip a beat.

Was it Daryl..? No. It wasn't him I was scared for. He could hold is own in anything. He was a survivor. My survivor.

It wasn't me. I wasn't scared for my life. Was I scared for anyone's life? Was that what I was nervous about?

No... I don't think so...

It was just an eery feeling that I couldn't understand and I didn't want to find out.

"Are you scared?" I asked, my voice just above a whisper.

He raised an eyebrow, his fingers running across my shoulder.

"No.. Are you?" he asked, dodging a random truck.

"Yeah," I admitted. I felt like I was going to throw up at any moment. I wanted to cry and scream and run a marathon. But instead I sat down beside him, unmoving and keeping my voice low.

"Don't be, sunshine. It's fine," he squeezed me gently, and I wished that this time it worked. It so often comforted me. Why not now?

"I guess..." I nodded, trying to convince myself more than him. I felt hot.

"Why should we be nervous?" he asked and I wished that I had his strength. How could he not be nervous?

"I don't know..." I shrugged, looking up at him. He brushed my hair away from my ear, leaving the skin tingling.

"Don't worry about it, sunshine."

"Don't call me that," I tried half heartedly, knowing he wouldn't listen. He just grinned down at me, winking.

Soon, everything looked familiar. Everything. We passed the department store that Daryl had stayed a few nights in and my stomach dropped.

"I fucking hated that place," he shook his head. I imagined him flipping it off and broke a small smile, but it was gone once I thought about how lonely Daryl must have been.

But Daryl's always been lonely.

And then we were on the road down to the prison.

I was going to throw up. My stomach felt terrible and I thought, 'Dear God, please don't let these be the early signs of a miscarriage. Please.'

"Daryl..."

"Yeah?"

He looked down at me and I shook my head 'no'.

"Kyra..." he didn't stop, and I sighed, starting to sweat. "You're just nervous."

"Maybe," I nodded, playing fiercely with my ring.

He stopped the truck about half a mile from the main entrance, putting it in park.

I turned to him, unbuckling my belt.

"Daryl-"

"Kyra, I know what you're going to say. What we're fixing to do is harmless. We're just going to peek through the fence. That's all," he reassured me, squeezing my shoulder. I leaned up, placing both hands on the side of his face.

"We don't have to do this," I began nervously, my face inches from his. "Daryl, we can just go home and say everyone was fine and pretend we sat at the fence for hours watching everyone do their thing. And we can just go home and look at this like a nice experience for us. It was a pretty good trip, so let's just go home?" I kind of asked and Daryl sighed, his hands around my wrists.

"Are you sure? And really think about it because if we leave here, we're not coming back no matter how hard you beg."

I looked at him for a second, biting my lip. Was this bad feeling just a figment of my imagination? Would I regret it if we went home?

"I just think-"

There was a loud explosion that caused both Daryl and I to whip our heads towards the prison, my eyes wide with fear.

Daryl's hands dropped from my wrist and he began moving.

"Daryl! Daryl, no!" I screamed as he opened the door of the truck I grabbed on to his shirt, now back to sleeveless, but it escaped my grasp.

"Kyra, stay in the truck," he ordered, climbing out of the truck.

"Daryl Dixon! Don't you do it!" I screamed, a new fear bubbling up to the top of my throat.

He grabbed his bow out of the back and I tried to follow, but he pushed me in the back of the truck.

"Don't. I'll be back in a minute, he went to turn to leave, but turned back around. "Give me the map."

"What?" I asked, so confused, I felt like my head would explode.

"Give me the map. The road map," he pointed towards the glove box and I reached over and grabbed it.

He unraveled it, grabbing the red ink pen off the dash. He circled something, then shoved the map back in my hands.

"If we get separated, you go back home, ok?"

"I can't! I don't know how to get there!" desperation laced in my voice.

"I circled Kyra-"

"I don't know how to drive! Daryl I can't do this. I can't. I need you. Don't leave me!" I begged, my heart pounded in my chest.

"You can. You can do it."

"Daryl," I grabbed on to the front of his shirt. "Daryl, don't do this. Please don't do this." he leaned down and kissed me, and for whatever reason, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. He pulled away, all too soon, untangling my arms. I grabbed onto his shirt, holding on for dear life. My Daryl. My Daryl. My Daryl. He gently pried my fingers loose, giving me one last glance, and then he was gone, running into the woods.

/

Creepy music plays. Hahaha

Sorry it's so short. But I promise the next one will be much lengthier.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE  
I stared after him as he disappeared through the trees, my body going into a temporary paralysis. My heart seemed to stop, everything around me seemed to stop: the wind, the birds, the walker a few dozen yards in front of me. I could hear my breathing coming faster as all of my worst fears were realized.

But then my mind kicked in, telling me Daryl wasn't dead. He was coming back. He was coming back for me.

But I didn't listen to his instructions about staying in the truck very long. More like a minute or two before I realized I couldn't stay here.

I shot out of the seat, leaving the map and knowing he was probably already inside the fence, already trying to save everyone.

He couldn't save everyone. Why did he always think he needed to save everyone? I could care less if he saved the entire prison or just me. I loved him and I needed him alive for me and our baby.

I didn't even stop to think about seeing if there was something I could use to defend myself. I ran into the woods, leaving the truck door open, and the walker behind. I ran straight, not sure if it would take me to the fence or not.

"Daryl!" I called, stopping by a little stream. I looked around, trying to remember what Daryl told me about tracking. My dad had taught me a little, but we never had to really track our game. I usually dropped them.

I threw my jacket off, starting to really sweat. I was now stuck in my jeans and yellow T-shirt. It was still too hot.

I looked back down. Footprints heading straight. I figured they could only belong to one person and I took of again, jumping the tiny trickle of water.

I ran until I came out in a very small clearing and then the fence, a small hole slit in the middle of it. I could just make out Daryl running past it, to what seemed like a huddle of people, and on the other side a tank. The tank. My dream...

"Fuck," I whispered, looking at all the walkers walking towards them. Good. That gave me an open shot at the hole in the fence that I was pretty sure Daryl had created only moments before.

I ran towards it, barely crawling through it, trying to be careful, and took off across the small clearing, praying I would make it ok.

I made it onto the concrete part, running up and stopping in my tracks.

"Kyra, don't move!"

Daryl. My head snapped up to see him holding a gun, it pointed towards the chaos at the fence, surrounded by Carl, Beth, Maggie, and more.

The dream. It was just like the dream.

Instantly my head snapped over to where Rick was standing, looking beyond him, every part of my being expecting to see Michonne on her knees.

Instead I was greeted by Tyreese and Hershel, a black gun pointed at Hershel's head.

And at the end of the gun...

I felt like the blood was drained from me. It was so much scarier to see him in person. So much more real. The Governor. He stood there, threatening to kill someone I was so fond of. Just like he killed my Dad. And my neighbor Elizabeth, and her son Angel. He was a viscous murder.

Yet all the hate and all the anger I've put into wanting to find him and kill him, I just wanted to run away. Run in the opposite direction, curl up in a ball, and cry.

I wanted Daryl to hold me.

"Run when I say to! Go straight to the bus!" my attention snapped back to Daryl, telling me almost exactly like he did in the dream. I nodded, feeling fear caused tears threaten to come.

I was not as strong as I thought I was. I was so insanely scared and I was shaking and I wanted to cry but I couldn't.

Beth looked over at me, desperation in her eyes.

"Daddy," she mouthed to me, turning back to look, her fingers gripped the fence. I felt bad for her. I knew her pain.

"He killed my daddy, too," I whispered, my throat constricted. I may be mad at her, but nobody deserved what the Governor did to people.

I went to instinctively reach for my knife, only to find myself wearing my moccasins. Just like in my dream.

This was too much like the dream. Too much. If it played out the way my dream did...

"Daryl," I whispered, as I looked at him whisper something to Carl.

And that's when a shot rang out. Beth and screamed for their father and I jerked my head around to see Hershel fall face forward, and I let out a terrified shriek. He killed Hershel. The Governor killed Hershel. Just like my dream.

"Run!" Daryl yelled, not even looking at me.

Then chaos ensued. Shots rang out everywhere. The tank busted through the fence, and suddenly I was turning and running.

The bus. Sick people. Glenn. Shots. Bullets. Sick people. Daryl. Daryl. My baby. Our Baby. Daryl. My thoughts were going crazy and I knew what was about to happen.

The stinging sensation in my arm, I was falling. I quickly turned, not believing I did it, landing on my back instead of my stomach.

The shot hurt so much more in real life. I wanted to cry so badly, but I didn't. I jumped up, seeing the girl with the crazy curly hair run after me.

I spun around on my heels, thinking about the prison and the two walkers.

But I wouldn't go there. Instead, I cut across the field, heading towards the truck. Which was a little more riskier than going in the prison. I could possibly trip and let her catch up with me, or I could run into a walker, or I could fall on my stomach. But, I needed to get to the truck.

I climbed through the gate, she shot at me again and missed, hitting fence beside me. I screamed, poking the side of my arm with the fence and scratching the hell out of it. My shirt partly ripped, but I kept going, Daryl and my baby fueling me.

I ran through the woods, hoping I could use them to my advantage. I was used to the woods. Maybe she wouldn't be.

I zig zagged through trees, ran under shady spots, and tried not to leave too much of a trail that I could help. But it didn't matter if I did. I was always far enough away she couldn't get a good shot on me, yet close enough she could follow pursuit and not lose me.

Eventually there was a little break in the woods and I seen a hunk of orange and instantly knew it was the truck.

I was almost scared to break out of the woods, it was my safety net. I could keep out of her way in there. But if I left, I would be out in the open.

But I did. I shot out, running straight to the back. I was far enough ahead of her for my plan.

I jumped in the back, threw open the tool box, and quickly searched for any type of weapon.

I pulled out my knife, throwing it on the ground behind me, a black bag, and then a gun. Just a small black pistol.

I didn't know if it was loaded, but when Curls broke through the woods, I pointed it at her, one hand tightly on the handle, finger pulling the hammer back, other ready to squeeze the trigger, my other hand supporting my wrist for aim.

"Drop your gun," I tried to order, but she just stared at me, her face determined, her eyes scared. "Listen, you don't understand. You don't want to shoot that gun. I'm... I'm pregnant."

"You don't look pregnant," her thick southern accent stated, her legs dancing like a boxers would in the ring, standing in his corner waiting to pounce.

"I'm only two months. But I am. I have a family to go back to. I don't want to have to kill you either. I know the Governor-"

"The who?" she asked, sounding more angry than curious. She was probably pissed that I was holding a gun to her head and questioning the man she trusted.

"Your leader. The man who just killed one of the most amazing men I have ever met before. The man who killed my father. The Governor. I knew him. He did the same thing to our group. It didn't end well for us. The people he brought to kill other people with? He murdered them. They didn't know what was going on. I can help you. My husband and I can help you. You don't have to pull that trigger," I coaxed her, praying that if she did shoot, she'd miss. And that my gun had at least one bullet in it. I wish I had time to check...

"I do. I have to, m'am. I'm sorry," she frowned, shaking her head.

"You don't. What's your name?" I asked, seeing her shoulders go slack.

"What's it matter?" she asked, a bit confused, her shoulders tensing up again, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Well, if you're going to murder me and my baby I'd like to know what your name is," I was shaking, trembling. My baby.

"It's... It's Kasey."

"Kasey. I'm Kyra. Listen, I know the kind of power the man out there has. I know how crazy he is. You don't have to do this. My husband and I, we can bring you to a safe place," I tried to reassure her. "We'd never have to tell anyone that you tried to kill me. My arm," I glanced at it, red dripping from my yellow shirt, "I'll say someone else shot at me. You don't have to do this. Please."

"I do. I have to. I'm so so sorry, but he'll kill me, Kyra."

"I know you trust him and think he's a good man, but he's-"

"I don't think he's a good person, m'am. But I have to do this. He'll kill me," she looked at me desperately. And I quickly thought.

"I can keep you safe. You're only what, twenty?"

"Sixteen," my throat tightened. Sixteen. She didn't look anywhere near that. She looked years older than me and I was only nineteen. Two teens, trapped in an apocalypse, pointing guns at each other. For what?

"Sixteen. I was sixteen once, you know. Under his influence. It took him killing the only family I had left to realize he wasn't who I thought he was. You don't have to do this," I repeated. She had to know how scared I was, right? I needed to look brave but I couldn't calm myself down and I didn't know how Daryl was and I didn't want to have to shoot this girl... But she may kill my baby.

Kasey's body seemed to calm a little, her boxers dance slowed.

"Kyra, was it?" I nodded. "Ok... Ok. You'll keep me safe?"

I nodded, smiling. But I wouldn't drop my gun until she did.

"Where's... Where's your husband?" she asked, lowering her gun.

"He's back there," I pointed with my gun.

She moved forward and I instinctively moved back.

"Your arm..." she motioned towards it.

"You just grazed me. I'll be fine. Did you have family with..." I gestured up the road where all the chaos was. I didn't know what she called him.

"No. No, I was alone."

"Ok. I have to go back and find my husband, ok? Stay here," I didn't lower my gun. Not yet.

"Don't leave me, Kyra. He'll kill me. Like he killed Martinez..."

Martinez. I had a little crush on that punk the first few weeks I was at Woodbury.

"He killed him?"

"I.. I think so. I'm not sure. But I think he did, yeah," she nodded.

I nodded, just barely lowering my gun.

"Kasey, I have to find my husband. You can either go with me or stay here. But either way, I have to go."

"You said you'd protect me!" she nearly screamed, her copper hair falling in her face, panic evident.

"Hey. Hey," I held my hands out, "I will, ok? Just... Just wait here, ok?"

"No! He'll kill me!"

"Kasey! Get in the truck and lock the doors. I'll be back with Daryl as soon as I can!"

She looked like she would cry and I didn't really trust her, but she nodded.

I picked up my knife and ran past her, back into the woods, past the creek, and then past the fence.

The first thing I seen was the Governor on top of Rick.

I froze, my fear engulfing me. I couldn't help Rick if I couldn't get over my fear of the Governor. But anytime I looked at him I saw him killing my dad...

I shook my head, wiping tears away that had threaten to come since this morning, and acted.

I got low, hoping no one would shoot at me, and began walking over there, crouching and looking for Daryl.

Nada.

I heard a gurgling noise and then a hissing and my head snapped back to attention.

The Governor was pinning Rick, his hands around his throat.

"Stop!" I screamed, a burst of courage shot through me and I almost expected it to be like the dream and have no sound come out.

Instead, the Governor's slowly turned towards me, blood all over his face. He grinned. Or grimaced. I couldn't tell.

"Get off him!" I yelled, my gun pointed at him. His grip didn't loosen.

"Shoot... Him..." Rick barely got out.

"Let him go, Governor," I ordered, feeling very very small.

He looked at my gun, then back at Rick.

Rick would die if I didn't do something.

I had never killed someone. Didn't ever want to. And I wasn't sure if my gun was even loaded.

But I squeezed the trigger.

The small shot rang out, and the Governor cried out, rolling off Rick. I had only hit him in the chest. Not even the heart.

I walked over on top of him, my face flushed. I felt like I was going to die.

I shot him again, missing his heart again. Good. Maybe he'd bleed out.

He stared at me, eyes gazing my face, not recognizing the young, innocent girl I used to be.

I left him, feeling weaker than when I came, helping Rick up.

We stumbled towards the prison, the roles reversed. Once upon a time, Rick had to help me walk. Now I was paying back my dues.

That was all.

"Tyreese?" I asked, Rick wheezing beside me.

"Alive," he nodded, holding on to his side.

I nodded, praising The Lord above.

"Hershel?" I asked, knowing I was wasting my breath.

Rick didn't answer, giving me my answer. My stomach dropped.

We reached the prison and he instantly started calling out for Carl.

"I have to find Daryl," I made sure he understood. "Carl will come, Rick. Carl is ok."

Rick nodded, looking terrible. His eye was swollen, he was bleeding everywhere, and he looked just as mentally broken as he did physically.

I couldn't just leave him like that. But I was growing more desperate, more concerned with losing Daryl.

But then Carl came around the corner, looking terrified and pissed off. He ran over to Rick and I turned, heading into the direction where I saw Daryl.

I was almost there when an explosion shook the ground, causing me to fall back. I couldn't see what was going on, but multiple walkers began heading towards the explosion, a few finding me in the process.

I turned, not knowing if Daryl was close to the explosion or not, and took off in another direction.

I didnt know how long I could keep fighting back these terrified tears, the fear of losing my baby or losing Daryl, and the desperation of needing to find Daryl was growing stronger with every single step I took. Was I getting closer? Further from him? I needed to know.

I stopped, once again, staring at a babys car seat.

"Judith?" I nearly whispered, the car seats back turned towards me. "Rick!" I screamed, running towards it. I was only a hundred or so feet away. "Carl!"

I reached the car seat, jerking around and let out a startled scream, stammering back and tripping over something, landing on my butt.

"Rick! Rick!" I shouted, now scared more than excited. I covered my mouth, the tears threatening to pool out, my entite body warned me that I was about to being my sobbing.

No. I couldn't do that.

The only thing the car seat held was blood. Lots of it, even if it waa just a baby.

"Kyra! What happened?" Carl came into the picture, supporting his dad.

"Oh, God..." I shook my head, my hand still covering my mouth as I stared at the car seat. The bloody car seat.

They quicly walked over and Rick instantly cried out, making stomach twist.

"Oh.. No.." he moaned, grabbing onto Carl, who began moaning and sobbing too.

I managed to pull myself together a little, pushing the thought of the little girl out of my mind.

"We... We have to go," I wiped my mouth, sniffing and standing up.

Carl shook his head, sobbing.

"Judith," he moaned, looking up at me.

"I know, Carl. But she's gone. We have to go," I tried to sound strong but I sounded just as frightened and alone.

The three of us someone how managed to leave the car seat, Rick hanging off either side of Carl and me. We walked towards the fence, needing to leave. But I stopped them.

"I have to find Daryl," I hissed, wringing wet with sweat.

"No. We have to keep moving," Rick shook his head, barely able to talk through his injuries.

"I have to find him!" I argued, looking out across the prison.

"There," Carl pointed out over a herd, across the prison. I followed his hand, leading me to Daryl, who was forever away. My heart surged. I had found him.

"Daryl!" I screamed, catching the attention of a walker.

He didn't hear me, or at least he pretended not to.

"Daryl-" I stopped screaming as the unmistakble Beth Greene ran beside him, looking desperate and alone.

"No," I whispered, heading towards them. Rick grabbed my shirt.

"He'll be fine-"

"Daryl!" I screamed again, trying to catch his attention. Instead, he turned and he and Beth ran in the opposite direction.

"No! Daryl!" I screamed, trying to get to him.

"You'll run right into the herd, Kyra! We have to go," Carl reasoned, and eventually I have up, leaving with them.

As we walked past the gate, Carl turned his head.

"Don't look back, Carl."


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN  
We made it through the fence, all three of us trying so hard to keep it together. They had lost Judith, I had lost Daryl. And now I didn't know what to do.

We started down the road, about half a mile from where Daryl had parked. Rick hung on us, barely able to walk. I threw my arm under his arms, trying to support him. I was slick with sweat, we all were, and smelled terribly of smoke and gun powder.

Suddenly my knees buckled and I fell to the ground, Rick nearly falling behind me, but Carl was able to support him.

My palms dug into the gravel, I was on all fours. I heaved, throwing up. All of my nerves seemed to take ahold of me as I vomited, my entire body shaking.

It didn't last long, and then I was standing up, wiping my mouth, and looking up at Carl and Rick. They looked back, no pity. I didn't expect it.

"Come on," I stood up, replacing myself by Rick. "I have a truck down this way," I nodded towards the direction and we continued walking.

I couldn't do this. I couldn't go on and not know where Daryl was. If he was alive. There were so many walkers in there, who knows if he even made it out of the prison...?

"There's somebody waiting for me at the truck," I warned them, remembering Kasey.

"Who?" Carl asked, his hand resting on his gun at his side. I didn't blame him. Mine was too.

"Her names Kasey," was all I said. I didn't know how they would react if I told them that she was one of the Governors people.

"Is she harmful?" Rick asked, his voice strained.

"No..." I lied, looking up at him. I doubt he would believe me. "You shouldn't talk right now," I said instead, looking back at the road.

Nobody said anything.

The orange truck came into view and I let out a whispered: "Fuck me," when I saw feet sticking out from underneath it, by the feet a flat tire.

I dropped Rick and ran over, letting out a small sigh. Kasey's body was leaned up against the car, her face disfigured, blood all over the side of the truck, her face, her clothes, and her shoulder. In her hand, her gun, and a few feet away, the walker that had walked towards me before I ran towards the prison.

"Damn it," I sighed as Rick and Carl came around the corner.

"She get bit?" Carl asked, looking at her disfigured face.

I nodded, looking at her shoulder. Definitely bit.

"And we can't use the truck. She must've accidentally shot it," I patted the tire irritably.

"So, nothing?"

"Nothing," I shook my head, pissed. She should have stayed in the truck like I told her to. I reached inside and grabbed the map, shoving it in my back pocket. I picked up my knife by the truck and opened the tool box. I grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder.

"Let's go," I repeated, once again helping Carl hold up Rick. He wasn't in any good shape to walk. We needed to find somewhere to crash. Quickly.

After what seemed like forever, Carl threw a fit and quit helping Rick. So I was left supporting him.

Carl walked ahead of us, trying to be brave, his hand on his gun. I sighed, he didn't know how lucky he really was.

"Carl, slow down!" Rick called, his breath shaky. Carl paid no attention to him.

"You shouldn't talk," I repeated, giving him a pity look, one had around his back, right under his arm to hold him up, the other hand holding his wrist, his arm slung over my shoulders.

"Kyra... Make him.. Slow down," he huffed out, his hair in his face.

"Just let him be, Rick. He's only a few feet in front of us. He'll be ok," I reassured him. He looked at me, I couldn't tell if his eyes were squinted or swollen, but we kept walking anyway.

We eventually found a gas station, hoping to find food or something. But all we found was a giant walker. Carl got into trouble because he shot it, we needed to save bullets.

We left with very little, stuffing some stuff in my back pack, some in a bag. Then we were of again.

We walked a few more hours until we found a house, a giant white one that reminded me so much of my house... Where my family waited for my arrival in less than two days. I wouldn't make it.

"Don't use your gun unless you have to," Rick reminded us, before he kicked the door in, busting the wood by the lock.

We slowly walked inside weapons ready, my knife hanging off my jeans.

We cleared the house, not finding anything, and Carl secured the door with cables, and I helped push a couch against it.

"What, my knot wasn't good enough?" Carl asked, looking up at Rick.

"I'm just taking extra precautions," Rick sighed.

"My knot would have done just fine!"

"Carl-" I began, but he cut me off.

"Nobody asked the whore for her opinions!" he yelled and I shrank back. I wasn't used to this anymore.

"Carl!" Rick yelled, Carl just stared at him, nostrils flaring.

"When'd you decide to take her side? When'd you even show up?" he threw at me. "How do we know she wasn't helping the Governor?"

"Why would I help someone who killed my family?" I asked quietly, and he stared at me.

"Rick, you need to rest..." I sighed, sitting down in the floor, my head against the wall. "You too, Carl. We'll need our rest."

My heart ached. I was stuck with Carl and Rick, who thought I was a whore, while my husband was off with Beth, who had already tried to break us up once.

But I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't cry in front of these assholes. Daryl would find me. He could track. He would find me... He would find me...

/


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN  
I woke up a little hazy, it was pretty late in the morning. I squinted, everything was fuzzy. Where was I? The living room? Daryl. I could make out Daryl on the couch. Why was I on the floor? Why weren't we in our bedroom?

"Daryl?" I called out, trying to see through the haziness of my sleep.

He didn't answer. Probably too sleepy from the previous days events... What were those events?

"Daryl, baby, wake up," I moaned, brushing hair out of my face. I stretched and yawned, the sleep finally clearing away.

"Daryl's not here," the voice scared me and I squeaked, falling back on my butt. Carl stood in the door way, looking back at me with disgust.

My head went back to Daryl on the couch and I realized with horror it was Rick.

"Oh God," I moaned, feeling the need throw up coming on. Everything came back to me. Daryl...

"I'm going out," he added. "Dads not waking up, so..." he shrugged.

"Carl, Rick would want you to stay in the house. He said so last night," I stood up, my back hurt.

"I just said he's not waking up. And I think there's some walkers outside so I'm going to deal with them. Just stay in here and I'll be back soon..."

"Kay," I gave up, watching as he left the room, mumbling something about not needing anyone.

I got up, looking for my back pack, wondering if Rick had heard me call him Daryl.

My back pack was on the other side of the room and as I heard Carl call out to something on the other side of the door, I stood up

I walked over and sat down again, my head spinning. I took out a water bottle and left to find a bathroom, giving a glance at Rick before going on.

In the small medicine cabinet were some aspirin. I read on the bottle, looking for anything about not taking it while pregnant, but got nothing. So, I popped three in, swallowing it down with as little water as I could manage.

I replaced the cap on the water bottle and looked at myself in the mirror. I was a sweaty mess. My short hair was tangled so it looked shorter and dirtier. I looked so different from the girl I was last time at the prison. My face was thinner, my eyes were sadder, and I was all around thinner. Everywhere except my stomach.

I had made it a point to avoid mirrors at the new house. I would only see myself in glances.

But now, I was taking my full portrait in. And it scare me a little. To see how much I've changed in just a year.

"Just a year," I mumbled, shaking my head. So much had happened in a year. Too much.

And now, the man I had went through all of that for was gone.

"Not for good," I said aloud, closing my eyes. "Not for good. Daryl is not gone for good. He will come back to you."

When I opened my eyes, my chin was quivering and my reflection showed the early stages of crying, reddening eyes and nose, shaky lips.

I quickly sniffed and left the bathroom, grabbing the water bottle.

I decided to pass time by taking a tour of the house. I had done it very quickly yesterday, only checking for walkers. Today, I had time to really look in it.

I did so, starting with the kitchen. It was small, nothing out of the ordinary. Just a farm house kitchen.

I left, heading upstairs to the bedrooms. I stopped at a door and gently opened it, half expecting a corpse to charge after me.

Of course nothing happened.

It was an equally ordinary room, the door to the closet had a mirror and I once again stared at it. It was full length. I could see how skinny I had gotten.

It was probably only fifteen or so pounds that I had lost. But for someone my size, that was a lot of weight.

I stared at the mirror, my hand on my stomach, my yellow shirt lifted. God, I was getting big. It was just a bump, but still...

I vaguely wondered if Rick or Carl noticed, but with all the chaos, I highly doubted it. And I didn't want to stick around for them to. I wanted to leave as soon as possible. Daryl told me to leave for the house and that's what I would do...

But I didn't know how to read a map nor drive. So how the hell was I supposed to make it back without having to ask Rick to help? I didn't want to. At all. I would go on foot before I asked him... Maybe.

I sighed and left the room, pushing my shirt back down as I bounced down the steps.

Rick was still asleep on the couch. Should I wake him?

"Rick..." I announced timidly, tapping his foot. Nothing. His foot just bounced back, as if on a spring. "Rick, are you feeling any better?" I asked, my stomach churning.

He didn't answer. Was he breathing? I knew how to check, but I didn't want to get close enough... Just in case...

His chest looked like it was moving up and down, but I couldn't tell if that was my imagination or not.

I bit my lip. There was only one way to tell if he was or not without me risking my life: wait. If he turns into a walker, shoot him. If not, hug him.

I sat in my corner, reading the book I had brought along with me, in case things got too boring in the car. I had only brought it out once.

It was the Outsiders, an older classic. It was one of my favorites and I was happy when I found it on the bookshelf. I've read it twice since we'd been at the house.

I occasionally glanced up from the greasers life to check on Rick, see if maybe he was moving or anything. But usually found nothing, just him laying in the same position.

His body had probably went into shock, losing Judith, getting the hell beat out of him, the prison being destroyed, and Carl pissed at him once again was probably enough to make him want to go into shock. I would have wanted to.

I wanted to go into shock now.

I laid my hand on my stomach and sighed.

"I need your daddy," I whispered to it, staring at the small bump.

I then went back to my book, planning on finishing it before the sun set and I could no longer see to read.

Sometime after noon I ate a few pickles, not too hungry. I then tried checking on Rick again.

I stood at his feet and tapped on his shoe, watching as they bounced back in place.

"Rick," I whispered, the sound being loud in the quiet house. "Rick?"

Nothing.

"Please don't be dead..." I sighed, sitting back down.

I stared at him, willing myself to see something I wasn't sure was there or not.

But I gave up and went back to my book, vaguely wondering where Carl was.

I wished that I had my stop watch. It would be nice to know the where a bouts of time. But unfortunately I just had to guess.

Just before sunset I finished my book and packed it back into my bag. I went back upstairs, looking for another one to waste my time.

As I picked up another classic, Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, I heard screaming.

I ran down the stairs, dropping my book, knowing the scream belonged to Carl, and prayed he was ok.

I ran into the living room to find him yelling at his dads motionless body, face angry.

"I saved you! I don't need you!" he yelled, waving his gun in the air.

"Carl!" I yelled, reaching out to pull him back, but my had shrank back, remembering his unkind words the day before.

"I saved you, you ass hole!"

"Carl, seriously," I pleaded. It was now dark outside, and I couldn't see him very well. But I'm sure he was on the verge of tears.

"I hope you're dead!"

"You don't mean that," I timidly touched his shoulder and he swung around to me, eyes wild.

But just as he opened his mouth to say something, a strange, gurgling noise came from the couch. Our heads snapped over, watching Rick.

It happened again, a scratchy, moan like breath escaping his lips.

"Oh God..." I whispered, backing up.

Carl stared at him as Rick slowly pulled himself off the couch moaning. He stuck his hand out towards Carl, who instinctively backed up, falling on his butt.

Rick made his way down the couch towards Carl, the walker cry growing more distinct. My heart raced, and I dove for my bag, getting my gun out.

But as I stood up, my gun fell, Carl had his gun pointed at Rick, his hand shaking.

My heart beat a little faster, Carl was going to have to kill his own dad...

I reminded myself that wasn't Rick. Rick was dead.

"I can't do it!" Carl moaned, dropping his gun. "I can't do it," he turned from his dad, crying.

I acted quickly, lifting my gun and pulling back the hammer, hearing the all too familiar popping noise, and made my way to walker-Rick, crawling after Carl, his hand out stretched.

I pointed the gun towards his head, my lips quivering.

"Look away," I nearly whispered, my throat tight

My finger inched it's way to the trigger, my entire body feeling like it was going to explode. I bit my lip and blinked back tears.

"Carl..."

I stopped, my finger instantly flicking the safety button.

"Carl..." Rick moaned again, and I instantly let out a sob, dropping to the floor, my laying my gun down beside me.

He was alive. He was alive and I wouldn't have to shoot him.

I told myself that was the only reason.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE  
Daryl's POV

I stared at the fire, Kyra's pocket watch in my fist, arms crossed. Beth was moaning about survivors, but I paid no attention to her.

Kyra...

When I got back to the truck, there was a dead girl and I instantly thought it was her. But I came to and realized it was someone else, someone neither Beth or me knew.

I checked the truck and Kyra's bag and the map was gone, so I assumed she was alive. For now.

But I didn't know if she was alone or not. Kyra wouldn't last alone. Beth kept telling me to be positive, but I needed to know if she was ok.

I should have left her with the stupid pocket watch. She hated not knowing dates and time. She felt like we lost all connection with the old world when she couldn't tell if it was Monday or Sunday. And I forgot to give her back her damn time piece.

We should have never went back to the prison. And I should have just turned around and left when Kyra said that she wanted to go back. I should have known something would have happened.

I wanted to kiss her again. I wanted to hold her hand and be there to protect her. I wanted us to lay on the couch of some forgotten house, her head on my chest, and as she asked me if everything was ok, I could tell her yes and hug her the weird way she liked it. I wanted to kiss her neck and brush back her short hair.

I wish that I would have told her I loved her before I left. I didn't tell her often. I just wasn't the type of guy to use my words. But I should have. She would have wanted to hear it. And now who knows if I'll ever get to tell her that again.

In all honesty, I needed to get some serious sleep. But I didn't trust sleeping out here. I had barely gotten any last night.

"Daryl, are you even listening to me?"

My head slowly moved up, my eyes daring her to be a bitch. I nodded slowly, lips pursed. Beth knew she wasn't my favorite person.

"Anyway, we need to find them. You're a tracker, tomorrow morning you can start tracking people. I can find Maggie and..."

I ignored her again, trying not to cuss her out. Little bitch was worried about her sister when I didn't know if my wife was alive or not.

"... and we're not the only survivors, Daryl. There's other people. Tyreese, Rick, Carl, probably even Glenn-"

"Could you shut the fuck up?" I interrupted her, scowling at her, my grip tightening on the pocket watch.

"I... I'm sorry..." she looked confused and my gaze dropped back to the small fire.

I needed a game plan. I could go back to the truck and try to track her from there, try and find out where she was. But I don't even remember if she was wearing her shoes or her slipper things. Or if she had her gun. I noticed one of mine was missing, but the hand gun I gave her on her first raid was back at the house with Tray, I was pretty sure...

I could also head back to that house. I had told her to go there if we got separated, and we did. So maybe she was heading there now and I was wasting my time with Beth.

God, Kyra was going to kill me when she found out that I was helping Beth. They weren't exactly favorites right now.

Beth stood up, bringing me back to reality. I wondered what she was doing but then she came over and sat beside me, too close for my comfort.

"She's alive, Daryl," she laid her hand on mine and I jerked it back, standing. She stared up at me with her stupid doe eyes and all I seen was red.

"How the fuck do you know, Beth? While I'm out here stuck with you, she's probably all alone. So don't fucking tell me she's alive, ok? And keep your hands off me," I grabbed my bow and moved to the other side of the fire, awkwardly laying down on the ground. She stared at me and I didn't have the guts to stare back.

"You have first watch this time," I mumbled, hoping Kyra and the baby were ok.

I couldn't sleep. I hadn't slept the night before either. I was listening to everything and I couldn't stop thinking about Kyra.

I just hoped that maybe she had someone. Even if it was Tyreese or Carol... No. Not Carol. God knows what she would do.

"Hey, Beth..." I leaned up, looking at her holding my knife, looking like a little kid. It was crazy that her and Kyra were the same age. But at the same time, it wasn't.

Beth looked at me and I could see how pissed off she was at me, chin tilted, stretching out her neck, her mouth tight.

"What?"

"You don't think she... Carol?" was all I could get out.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she put a thinking face on. I had to look down. She reminded me a lot of Kyra and I wasn't going to go there.

"You know... I wouldn't think so..." she said thoughtfully, looking at the stars. "I haven't seen Carol in a few days, so..." she shrugged, frowning down at me.

I nodded.

"Good... Wake me up if you hear anything..."

"Will do," she sighed.

She probably wasn't used to having the responsibility of being a lookout. But I wasn't about to wait on her hand and foot. I needed some sleep too.

\

hey! So, sorry for the short chapter... But I fixed Chapter Ten and it's completely different. So, if you want to go back and read that, you can. :)


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I sat beside Rick on the couch, cleaning out his wounds with some alcohol and rags we found. I had already bandaged up my little gun wound, and it was just a small sore now. But, I was constantly brushing Rick's hair out of his face and it felt all too intimate, all too familiar. I didn't like it. It made me want to forget he was Rick and kiss him. Pretend it was Daryl and cup his face, whisper to him while my lips were on his.

But he wasn't Daryl. He was Rick. Someone I wasn't always fond of. And even if I was, my heart belonged to Daryl. And I would never dishonor that. No matter how mad I was. Was I even really mad anymore?

"Thanks..." he said finally, looking at me as I dabbed at a spot under his eye.

I ignored him, continuing rubbing away the blood left over from two days ago, it being crusted and dry and hard to remove. I couldn't answer without the rushing sensation to my lips, the one that said 'Kiss him. He'll kiss back.' I didn't agree with those sensations. I didn't want to kiss Rick. It was the pregnancy talking. Or my missing Daryl talking. Why couldn't he be Daryl? It wasn't that I wanted Daryl to be this hurt, not at all, but I would much rather be cleaning his wounds than Rick's. Because then I could lean down and kiss him, then I could lightly brush my lips against the bruises I had just cleaned, and jokingly ask if they now felt better. I couldn't do that with Rick.

"I'm... I'm sorry you and Daryl got separated. But you know he's searching for you right now, Kyra," he tried again at making conversation as I wiped blood out of his eye brow, having to lean up a bit.

"Or screwing Beth," I huffed, then instantly regretted it. I shouldn't have been upset with him over that, he was just trying to help.

"Huh?" Rick asked, raising an eye brow that I happened to be cleaning a cut on. I may have imagined it, but I saw just a hint of an odd look. One that made my stomach churn.

I didn't make eye contact, glad I was leaning up and he couldn't see the top half of my face. I shouldn't have said that at all.

"You jealous of Beth?" he asked, a strange noise came out.

"No."

Yes.

"Why do you think he'd be cheating on you with Beth?" He sounded guilty of something. Was it something to do with Rick finding out?

"I don't. I'm just under a lot of pressure." But I wanted to know. Badly.

Because I'm also pregnant and hormonal and want chocolate.

"What pressure?" he asked, leaning back. I had cleaned most of his cuts, the rest he could get.

I sat down on my heels, facing him.

"I'd rather not go into it," I shrugged, standing. I didn't want to tell him I was pregnant. I wanted to know why he sounded guilty and changed the subject.

"Has he done it before?" More guilt laced voices.

"No. He's been faithful," I answered him, looking down at him. He looked so different, so broken.

"So, you don't trust him with Beth?"

"No! I trust him with Beth! I shouldn't have said that..." I trailed off, walking to the little padded rocking chair and taking a seat. I would want one of these for my kid. So I could rock them.

"Oh..."

"Yeah... How's that leg?" I asked, setting the alcohol and rag down in the floor beside my chair, crossing my arms.

"Better," he nodded, looking over his shoulder as Carl came down the steps. We made brief eye contact as he sat down by his dad. We hadn't really spoken since he cried in front of me.

"Good," I nodded back.

What was I doing here? Ed was probably waiting on me back at our real home. It's been three days.

One more day, I reminded myself, until Michonne knew we wouldn't be coming back. I had to make it back soon.

But not while Rick could barely take care of himself.

I could just take then with me. It wasn't like I could drive any ways. I mean, I know the basics. But most of it, I have no clue. I've never driven before. So, they would actually come in handy... But I didn't want to use them...

"So, I've been meaning to tell you guys that Daryl and I have a meeting point," I said nonchalantly, Carl not paying attention. Rick slowly nodded.

"So, is it in town or something?"

"No..."

"Right. Your new home..." he sounded almost wounded. Well, ass, you're the one who sent us away in the first place.

"Yeah, my new home," I agreed, not paying attention to his sad eyes. "I have a map to it. It's in my bag. We can head there?" I suggested, crossing my feet, sitting Indian style.

"Yeah, sounds right. How far away is it?"

"If we don't stop driving, maybe a little less than a day," I guessed, shrugging. I wanted to see my Daryl so bad... The thought of him with Beth, her cooing over him, trying to comfort him. The first time Daryl tried to comfort me we ended up kissing. I did not want that to happen with Beth.

And most of all, I just missed him. I think I took him for granted, begging him to go back like that. For what? Me to get stuck with Rick and Carl and for him to be stuck with Beth? Who I had originally wanted to check up on, and now I'm not so sure.

"I don't know... I need to stay. When I get better, I'm going to start looking for Judith."

"Yeah. I'm not leaving until we find her," Carl piped up, nodding like he was a grown man. I nodded back, understanding.

"I get that. But... I have to go. Soon. Daryl's waiting on me..."

Rick nodded.

"How are you gonna get there?"

I bit my lip. I didn't really know. I couldn't risk traveling by foot. Plus it would take me forever. And I couldn't drive...

"I'm not so sure..."

"I'm sure we could find you a car or something to-"

"I can't drive."

"Why not?" Carl looked at me, eyebrow raised.

"Because I don't know how."

"Right..." Rick sighed loudly, his hurt leg stretched out in front of him. "Your parents never let you drive or anything?"

"Nada," I shook my head, frowning slightly.

"I guess I'll have to teach you then."

/

This isn't going to happen, but! How mad would you guys be if I paired Kyra and Rick? Tehehe.

Sorry for the short chapter. Maybe I'll post another in a few hours to make up for it? Sounds good, yeah?


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN  
Daryl's POV

I woke up to find Beth asleep, which pissed me off. She was supposed to have watch. Couldn't trust the bitch for anything. Really, I shouldn't have fallen asleep. But I was keeping us both alive. The least she could do was stay awake for a few hours while I slept. So, I woke up in a bad ass mood. As if it wasn't already bad from not waking up next to Kyra.

"Hey, useless!" I hollered, making her stir. "Get the hell up! We gotta start moving," I stood up, kicking dirt into small fire, smothering the remains. Some got in her face and she dramatically coughed, giving me a dirty look as she stood up. I ignored it.

"You were supposed to have watch. What the hell happened?" I asked, shouldering my bow.

"I fell asleep," her eyes got big, accusing me. For what? God I wanted to hit her. But I didn't hit girls, so I would let Kyra when we got back home. If I got back home...

"Listen, today we're not gonna stay here. We're gonna head back up to a place Kyra and I kind of found," she made a face at the mention of Kyra that I paid no attention to.

"Where is it?" she asked, fixing her hair.

"North Carolina. It's a pretty long drive, but we can do it in a little over a day if we don't make stops. That means you'll have to pitch in and drive."

"North Carolina!? I can't go all the way to North Carolina! I have to find Maggie!"

"Beth-"

"And you have to find Kyra!"

"Kyra's probably already there, if she found someone."

"I can't go. I have to find Maggie. And what if Kyra didn't find anybody?"

I looked at her, eyes squinted from the sun. She was getting on my last nerve.

"Maggie's dead, Beth. They're all dead. We're lucky we got out."

"You believe Kyra got out."

"Because I watched her run through the fence after..." I didn't finish my sentence. She knew what 'after' I was talking about. Hershel.

"I know Maggie's out there. We just have to have faith."

"Faith got us no where."

"I have faith," she argued. Like Kyra would. I wanted her so bad...

"So did your dad. Look where it got him," I said coldly, mostly to get my mind off Kyra, and we stared down each other.

Yeah, I did feel like a piece of shit for saying it, but it was true. I was tired of this Jesus crap. He was real, why didn't he save us? Why did Hershel die? Why did anyone?

After a few minutes, she broke her gaze and turned, reminding me of Kyra when she was mad, and tore off through the woods.

I followed pursuit, getting tired of the follow the leader thing we did every day. Day three... It's been six days since we've left the house. Tomorrow Michonne will expect us. And when we don't come, she won't come looking, just like I asked.

I needed to see Kyra.

I guess I should be pissed at her for wanting to go back to the prison so bad. But I wasn't. Maybe that would come later. But now I just wanted to see her. Know that she was alive... That my baby was alive.

"Do you think Glenn made it out? I don't remember if he was on the bus or not. I think he was. Do you think the bus survived? There was people shooting at it and I don't remember-"

"Beth," was all I said. She got the hint and shut up. Maybe that would hold her over for a bit. Maybe.

"Daryl," fuck no, "I... I have to find Maggie. I can't do it alone."

"What'd'ya want me to do about it?" I asked, pushing past her and continuing down the track I was following. It could be Kyra's. They were boots... But was she wearing her slipper things? I couldn't fucking remember.

"To help!" she grabbed my arm and jerked it away.

"Find someone else to help you. I have to get to my wife," I hissed, continuing my path. I wanted to scream when I heard her jog up beside me.

"Don't be selfish!"

"Selfish?" I roared, turning on her, before calming myself down. She shrank back like a little kid. Beth Greene had never seen me truly mad before. No need in her seeing it now. "Selfish?" I repeated much quieter, almost a whisper. "Tell me the difference between my wants and yours."

She looked at me, stunned, her stupid ponytail still swinging from where she was jogging or from her shrinking away from me. I didn't care.

"Because I'm going to find family."

"Kyra is my family," I squinted at her. I was really getting tired of the woe is me shit she was pulling.

"She's your girlfriend, Daryl," she looked at me like I was stupid, wide eyes and lips firmly in place. Wished they'd stay that way.

"She's my wife," I turned from her, having to double check for the crushed berries I seen earlier. My throat tightened. Please don't be Kyra...

"She's not your wife. Don't be stupid," Beth huffed behind me, picking berries.

"She is too my wife. What would you know about relationships?"

She ignored me, continuing picking the berries. I played with the idea of leaving her for a second, then sighed loudly.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, whenever we find whoever we're going to find, they're gonna want food, Daryl," she sighed, as if I should have known. I should have, really.

I pulled my bandana out of my back pocket and handed it to her. She looked at it skeptically for a second before taking it, rapping some berries in it.

Then we continued.

It wasn't long before we came up on a rail road, and along with it a few dad people, their bodies ripped to shreds or heads bashed in. Some bullet holes here and there.

Good lord, I thought, here she goes.

But she didn't cry or complain. She just stared at them.

I bent down, making sure none of them were her... Kyra...

Nothing. Wasn't Maggie or Glenn either. Not Tyreese, Rick, Carl, Judith, Carol... Nobody we were really close to.

"We're good. It's not your sister and it's not Kyra," I told her, not looking at her. I started for the train tracks. Maybe Kyra was somewhere down here.

That's when she started her weeping. It was an awkward sob, half choked. I looked back at her, honestly feeling bad. She stared at the bodies, her arms by her side, as she cried.

I wasn't going to say anything though. Anything I said would only make it worse.

I turned back around and headed down the tracks, the gravel crunching under my feet. It took a minute, but Beth followed behind. And eventually she stopped crying.

/

so, I think guys misunderstood Kyra with the scene with her and Rick, when she felt the urge to kiss him. She said she didn't agree with those feelings. And, she also said she wanted him to be Daryl so she could, because she wanted to be with Daryl. I think she has grown up a tad bit. Not a lot, but a little. She admitted it was stupid wanting to go back to the prison, she just wanted Daryl back now. She doesn't want to kiss Rick or cheat on Daryl with Rick, she just wants Daryl back. Get it?


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN  
We must have spent an hour in that piece of shit, old, beat up, farm house bronco. It wasn't the easiest vehicle to drive. And Rick warned me it was top heavy. So, I was already not happy with the only vehicle with a key that we could find.

But, we were in there forever, Rick in the passenger seat, teaching me to drive.

It was definitely something I wanted Daryl to teach me to do. But, it was something I absolutely had to do. Or I wouldn't do it all. Especially not with Rick.

"Ok, just press on the break and slowly put it in reverse," he coaxed, and I imagined him giving Judith her first lesson.

I did as told, slowly backing out of the drive way.

"Ok, that was easy enough. You just need to learn the absolute basics. So, we'll just practice just that."

I nodded, not feeling very confident. I liked little trucks or little cars. Not this big hunk of junk.

"Be less nervous, Kyra. If you're nervous, you're more likely to wreck."

"That's comforting," I huffed.

"Now," he began, ignoring me, "press on the brake again and go into drive."

I did. And then slowly pushed on the gas peddle, only going about twenty miles an hour down the narrow driveway/road.

"Good. See, you're a natural-"

"Oh shit!" I yelled as we hit a bump and I slammed on the breaks.

"Or not," Rick corrected himself, hands on the dash where he had nearly fallen in the floor board.

"Sorry. Sorry," I shook my head, trying to calm my nerves.

"It's alright..."

I looked back at the porch to see Carl doubled over with laughter. Ass.

"What do I do?" I panicked, looking at the different buttons. I'm pretty sure that one was for A/C, but it could be for the head lights. Who the hell knew!?

"I'll give you a few scenarios... If it's raining, flick this button for the windshield wipers," he reached across and grabbed at a stick, pulling it back.

"Mmkay," I nodded, locking it in my brain. He twisted it again and wipers stopped.

"But, if it's pouring, I want you to just pull over. No need in risking your life."

"Like I'm not already."

"If it's getting dark on you, here's the head lights," he reached across me again, turning a gray knob. The lights flicked on and he quickly turned them back off. "Don't forget to turn those off. Your battery goes dead, you're screwed." I nodded again. "And same with the rain, if it gets too dark, I'd rather you pulled over for the night. You're definitely still an early learner, so it'd be in your best interest."

I nodded, my hands still gripping the steering wheel. I would do this, but it would really be a miracle if I made it in one piece. Between my driving skills and this piece of shit I was driving, I'd be lucky if I made it through Tennessee, let alone North Carolina.

"Rick," I began, rehearsing my goodbye speech in my mind. I had said this a million times since Daryl had been sent away.

"Yeah?" he asked, leaned back in the seat, eyes on the radio.

I took a deep breath. I had been planning to say these things to him since I'd left the prison. But, I couldn't find it in me to hate him anymore. The speech was slightly different.

"Daryl loves you," I finally said, making him look up at me, an eyebrow raised. "He would never, ever admit it. But he does," I nodded, agreeing with myself. "You were so good to him. You were his best friend and I don't know how to thank you for that. With out you, Daryl would have no family. Daryl would be the same, angry person he was four years ago. But he's not. Because he found his family. His real, true family that God meant for him to be in."

"Kyra-" he started. But I couldn't let him finish. I had to get my thoughts out.

"That being said," I sniffed, taking my hand off the wheel to wipe my nose, "you really fucked him up too. He loved you. A lot. And he trusted you. You betrayed him, Rick. All because you didn't like me-"

"That's not why-"

"Let me finish," my hand once again wiped my nose, the back of my wrist wiped my eyes, and then my hand landed on my stomach. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long how bad I hated you. How bad I had it after the prison-"

"You didn't have to leave."

"Yes I did, Rick. They hated me there. Because of you. But just listen, ok? I may have had a terrible, terrible road after the prison, but it was worth it. Because after Jack-"

"Who's Jack?"

"After Jack," I repeated, "I thought I would never be able to love Daryl again. But I did. And really, Jack was the only really bad thing that happened after you. And now, I have a new family, Rick. And they're beautiful, beautiful people. They love me. And I love them. Three kids, three adults. And Michonne, Daryl, and I. We all live together, and it's awesome. And now..." I bit my lip, "I'm pregnant. I'm two months pregnant. My new family couldn't be happier for me. They're worried, but they have high hopes. Because they accept the age difference between Daryl and I. They accept us as a couple. That's what you guys lacked. Acceptance."

I sniffed again, wiping my eyes, and finally looking over at him.

"Rick, Daryl really does love you. And it would mean the world to him if you came back with us."

He stared at me, frowning.

"Kyra, I'm so sorry," he shook his head, and I nodded, understanding. "But I'm not just sorry that I can't go. I'm sorry for what I put you two through. I..." he took a deep breath, "I didn't know. I swear, I thought he was just, I thought you were... Using him. Him using you. I didn't know it was... Real."

I nodded, half smiling, my chin quivering.

"It's ok. Because I forgive you," I whispered, and we just looked at each other.

He shook his head, reaching across the seat and grabbing me in a hug. I was shocked. I hadn't expected him to do anything but maybe nod his head. But he was hugging me, I was pretty sure he was crying. And eventually, I hugged him back.

"Thank you," he whispered, his mouth just above my ear. "Thank you."

After a few surprisingly not awkward moments, Rick pulled away, wiping back a few tears.

"You'll always be Daryl's brother, Rick. You were more of a brother to Daryl than Merle ever was," I told him, his hand in both of mine, my thumb ran against the back of his hand. It felt so odd, but at the same time, it didn't. It felt like this should have been our relationship from the start. Brother and sister. Not enemies.

"And he mine," Rick nodded, squeezing my hand before slowly pulling his back, I did the same.

"Now, let me see this map and I'll tell you how hard this'll be for you," he held out his hand I retracted the map from the dash, letting Rick outline it. He opened the glove box, finding a black permeant marker.

"Let's see..." he looked over his shoulder, finding a street sign. He began marking different roads and stops, mapping out everything. I was gonna have to stop every five seconds to look at that damned map. I just wished he'd go with me. That way I could take both him and Carl with me safely.

He reminded me so much of Daryl. And at the same time, he was nothing like him. It hurt my heart. I needed Daryl back. I just prayed he was waiting for me, at the house. Him and Bonnet and Michonne and Tray... I missed them so much. My family. The family I needed to stop being so attached to. But I couldn't...

"Well, Kyra, this seems like the fastest way to reach your destination. The place he circled is kind of just a town, so I hope you can get there from there?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "I know the area well enough."

"Ok," he folded the map up and handed it over. I stuck it in the waistband of my jeans. "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning. I want to get an early start. So, I may already be gone when you wake up... That is, unless you hear a crashing sound. That probably means I didn't make it out of the drive way," I smiled slightly, and he did too.

"You'll do good. Just don't panic. Relax. If you get scared, just pull over and take a few breaths. Don't get too sleepy. Don't let it get too dark. You'll be fine."

I smiled at him. A genuine, happy smile. He probably didn't believe I would last through Friday, but at least he was encouraging me.

I somehow managed to pull the car back into it's little place in the grass, getting out and pushing Carl playfully as he laughed at me.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN  
Carl held the pick in place, having a failed attempt at trying to break the door down in the beginning.

We were just going to clear this place out. Nothing big. Rick had protested, but we decided he needed some rest and I didn't feel right leaving them with not much of anything. Daryl taught me that, I guess.

We walked through the house, not being quiet about it, the map rubbing against my waist as it was stuck in between my jeans and my skin. Carl was talking to me about something, I wasn't all the way listening.

"How's Michonne?" he suddenly asked as we were in the kitchen, making me turn to him. I smiled slightly, feeling nervous.

"She's great," I reassured him, opening a cabinet. "She was when I left her, anyway," I tried at a joke. It was lame. My jokes were always lame.

He nodded, opening a cabinet on the other side of the kitchen. I found some canned tuna and bagged it, making a face. Tuna. Yuck.

"Spaghetti O's," he called, lifting a can and putting it in his trash bag.

I got off the floor, walking over to the fridge and opening it. Nothing but some gross meat.

"So, how's Daryl? You both have, um, changed.. Since you left," he too stood and we made our unison way to the dining room. I lifted a few things, a candle stick, an empty salt shaker, a few green place mats.

"He's... He was good," I frowned, opening the cabinet to find it stacked full of dishes, probably super expensive. And very breakable. I left them alone.

"Do you think...?"

"No," I shook my head, hard. He was not dead. He was alive. He was well. He would come back to me.

"Are you mad he left with Beth?" he asked another question and I chose to ignore it, moving on to a hall way. It felt so high school. That was one thing I didn't enjoy about the before world.

"Kyra, I know you are. Why?"

"Because," I said simply, moving into a bathroom. Carl followed.

"Because why? I won't tell anyone," he was close behind me and I opened another door, into a kids bedroom. Something smelled...

"It's not that I don't want you to know... It's that... I don't know. I guess I don't want to start anything, but it's not like I'm going to have to deal with her anyway," I shrugged, picking up different parts of the room and looking around. It reminded me of my baby.

"So, go ahead and tell me," he urged.

"I thought nobody asked for the whores opinion?" I threw at him, using his own insult.

"You're not a whore. I'm sorry. Now will you tell me?"

I sighed, turning to look at him, a little sail boat in my hand.

"Because, Carl, she kind of made moves at him before we left the prison. That and I want to be with him. Not anyone else. I don't want him to be with anyone else. Just me. I guess I'm just jealous, but I don't like that he ran off with her!"

His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and he took his hat off to wipe sweat off his forehead before putting it back on.

"She put moves on Daryl?"

"Yeah," I turned, setting the toy boat back down. "Let's... Let's get out of here, Carl." I walked over to the last door in the room, before something inside me told me not to.

"First, do you have any more questions?" I quickly asked, turning from the door.

"A few, yeah."

"Well, check out the rest of the rooms and meet me in the hall and you can ask them," I nodded, waiting for his response.

"Ok? See you in bit," then he turned and walked out.

I bit my lip as I turned back towards the door, my stomach churning. I hated those feelings I got. Something bad almost always happened. I was sick of bad things happening. I just wanted to go home to Daryl and crawl in bed next to him, just lay there.

But I couldn't.

I almost turned around, but I told myself there could be something in there that could help Rick and Carl.

So I took a deep breath and opened the door. I walked in, feeling woosy, and felt like the breath was taken right from my legs.

First I took in the horrific scene. I just stared at it, glad I had sent Carl off. It was awful. Terrible. Dead bodies laying in beds, one in a rocking chair, blood splattered on the wall behind it. It didn't help the room was a ghastly pink and added to the whole creepiness.

Then, I gagged. I felt my canned green beans I had for breakfast just a few hours prior come back up, and hurled it out just in front of one of the beds.

Thirdly, my thoughts flew to my baby as I wiped my mouth, feeling even more sick. I touched the small bump, concealed by my shirt, and prayed it wouldn't have the same fate.

Lastly, I turned and fled out of the horrifying pink room, slamming the door closed, and the nightmare, behind me.

I stiffly walked out of the room, picking my pillow case off the floor as I went. I made it to the hall and called for Carl, wanting to get the hell out of this place.

He came after a few seconds, saying he didn't really find anything, and I nodded.

As we walked out of the house, he decided to ask some more questions.

"So, where'd you and Daryl and Michonne go after you guys left?" he asked, his gun on his hip.

"First to a cabin somewhere off in Tennessee. And then we found a place in southern North Carolina," I explained, not really knowing where it stood on the North, East, South and West terms. It just made it sound better.

"Why'd you leave the cabin?"

I instinctively touched the spot on my head, not visible any more unless you were really looking.

"Reasons."

"What reasons?" he pried, looking up at me, now almost level with me.

I shrugged.

"The people there didn't get along with us," I said simply. He took it and let it go.

He asked a few more questions, if we found any people, if I missed Daryl, if I thought he was dead.

After a short walk, we could see the house.

And as soon as we did, Rick was waiting for us, waving like a maniac, panic on his face.

I dropped my bag and pulled out my gun, only have a few bullets left, and Carl did the same. I shoved the map deeper into my waist band as we took off running towards him, and then we all the ran down the road, leaving my bag and the Bronco behind.

/


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN  
It wasn't long before we changed our pace, going from a run to a walk, nothing hard. Yet my anxiety and fear was making my heart ache as if I had ran a marathon. I kept touching the map at my side, having to be sure it was there. It was my ticket back to Daryl. I needed it.

"What happened back there?" I asked, breathing heavy. We all were.

"People," he shook his head.

"What people?" Carl asked, wiping sweat off his forehead.

I had been living in luxury too long. It was almost like I had forgotten that there could be bad people. I had forgotten Jack and the Governor. And now it was all a rude awakening, something with giant red letters shouting at me to grow up. I couldn't be innocent anymore.

I wasn't innocent anymore.

I had shot someone. A real person, not just a walker. Why hadn't I been worried about that before? I was officially corrupted. My mind, my body, my heart, my soul. We were all ruined.

"I don't know. They were bad people, Carl. Very bad people."

I nodded, my mouth dry.

"Did any of them see you?" I asked, checking him over for any signs of abuse. But nothing seemed new, just the marks the Governor gave him.

"Yeah. Both are dead."

Then there was a crisp silence. Two dead. I had just assumed he meant he killed them.

Why couldn't people just get along? Why did there have to be such stupid controversy? We needed to regroup, to fight together, not against each other. The enemy was not each other. It was the hoard of walkers that surrounded us. I say 'us' because I don't know how far off these walkers are. America, yes. But what about Canada? Mexico? What if we travel across the pond to England? Are they dealing with the same thing? Is the entire world in danger of being wiped out? Or was it just us?

"Will they chase us?"

I feared outsiders. I didn't trust people. Correction, I didn't trust men. You could never tell if they were as kind hearted as Tray or as abusive as Jack.

And the people who invaded Rick's personal space did not seem like the ford sort.

"No," he shook his head, walking much better than the first day we arrived.

Again, another stab of missing Daryl and praying he was alive.

"Where are we going?" Carl asked, an honestly good question. Who the hell knew?

"I don't know," he shook his head, turning and going into the woods. We naturally followed.

Trees were good cover- from walkers and bad people.

With a slight hope I almost wondered if Daryl was just a few miles out of my reach. But I doubted it. He was probably helping Michonne with a trip around the fence, or maybe helping Tray with the car, just sitting around and waiting for my arrival.

Did he miss me like I missed him? Because I missed him a lot. I didn't realize how much I had depended upon Daryl. Just to be there. And now he wasn't.

"Are we heading back towards the prison?" I asked, everything seemed too familiar. Were we going back to prison territory? This wouldn't be safe at all. There were way too many walkers attracted there after all the gun shots and explosions.

"I'm not sure," he stopped and Carl and I instantly did the same, watching him. Then he turned and continued on his way.

So basically we were just following Rick around the woods, hoping to come upon a reliable place soon. Now I felt like I could never leave them. I needed to get home and who the hell knew where I was now? I mean, I couldn't be too far away from our previous starting point, but still...

We kept walking aimlessly, I looked out for any signs of people: tracks in the mud, crushed grass or leaves, anything that screamed signs of people, alive or not.

We hadn't walked more than three hours when we walked right onto train tracks.

The three of us looked at each other as we stared at the sign on the cart that read SANCTUARY FOR ALL. THOSE WHO ARRIVE SURVIVE. It had arrows pointing up the tracks.

"Should we go?" Carl asked, sounding more eager than skeptical.

"I think we should," Rick nodded. "Kyra?"

I shook my head.

"My sanctuary waits for me in North Carolina," I looked at the ground, biting the inside of my cheek. This was nerve wrecking.

Rick walked over, lowering his voice so Carl couldn't hear. "Kyra, I can't leave you out here alone."

"Then don't. Come with me," I looked up at him, my throat constricted.

It wasn't that I loved them. It was that I couldn't do it alone. I didn't know what to do. Instead of Daryl sheltering me, he should have been showing me how to survive on my own. He promised he would, once upon a time, in case he ever died...

This was worse than him dying. I knew he was out there. I just didn't know where. It would kill me.

"I can't, Kyra. I have to look out for my son," he swallowed and I watched his throat move, an unsettling feeling in my stomach.

"I understand," I nodded. "So, I guess this is where we part ways..."

"Come with us."

"I have to find Daryl, Rick," I shook my head 'no', sniffing. "You guys keep safe, ok?"

"You too," he nodded, pulling me in a surprising hug. His next words surprised me, his mouth by my ear.

"You need to know I sent Carol away. For other reasons. You're not unloved. It was for your own good. Both of you. For Carol, it was because she was murderous. She put the entire group in danger. And Beth..." he sighed, "Beth told on you."

My heart jumped in my throat as I pulled away, my hands on his shoulders, my eyes wide.

"You mean to tell me that the person who tried to fuck Daryl is the one who told on him and the one who he just happened to run off with?" my voice was low, dangerous, pissed off.

I was fueled now.

"I thought you should know," his hands were still on my back and he grabbed me in another quick squeeze before letting me go.

My lip quivered, I was pissed off. But I couldn't let my emotions take control of me. Not now.

"You can still come with me."

"I can't. Be safe. I hope you find him."

I nodded, pushing back tears.

I gave one last look at them, knowing it would be the last time I ever saw them, and turned, walking down the rail road to God only knows.

Before I was thirty yards away I began crying.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN  
Daryl's POV

I shouldn't have gotten drunk with her. Kyra was going to be so pissed. She seen that as 'our thing'. Getting drunk and doing stupid things, having drinking games. I had done all that with Beth last night, even burned the evidence it seemed like. Kyra wouldn't like that.

And I sure as hell shouldn't have opened up to her like that. I told her things I had lied to Kyra about. Granted, I was flat out drunk on something way better and stronger than that fruity wine Kyra likes, but it didn't matter. She wouldn't care. She would be pissed.

I didn't know what I was going to do about Beth either. I couldn't just up and bring her home with me. But I couldn't just leave her. I was a better person that, I think.

She wasn't my favorite person by no means. But we had had a... I guess a 'bonding' experience. And I couldn't just dump her out on the street or abandon her. What kind of person would I be then?

I was nervous. I told Beth about the house and convinced her to go, only because I couldn't leave her and I wanted to get to Kyra. So we were on our way to do that now, although it would take forever. We didn't have a vehicle and we were on foot, which made us vulnerable and would get us to North Carolina in maybe a month. Maybe. A two day car trip. Now put that on feet. We needed a car or something. But everything was torn to shreds.

I just prayed that when I walked through the door of that old house Kyra would be sitting on the couch waiting on me, Bonnet sitting by her, although she didn't much like the dog. Maybe she would like it just enough.

I had played it out in my head over and over again. The scenes kept changing, I kept factoring in different things: first, it was me just walking through the door, sweaty and tired. She was sitting on the couch and when I walked in she just stood up, in those boxer shorts I liked taking off, and threw her arms around me. Something I would have enjoyed. From there, my mind took off, making me realize how much I really did miss her.

In the next one, I remembered Kyra would have a belly. So, it was the same thing, but there was a pudgy belly in between us.

In another, I decided Michonne and Tray and Morgan and unfortunately Raul would probably be there too, along with the three boys. Then, it had nearly been the same thing. Except Robert hugged me too and Michonne kind of nodded, smiling. Cause I told her not to look and she didn't. But she knew I was coming back.

In another, I factored in that she would probably be a little pissed off that I hadn't listened to her when she said for us to just turn around. But still, she would hug me, wrap her legs around my waist (even though I was sweaty and disgusting, she wouldn't care) and whisper in my ear what a dumb ass I was over and over again.

Then... I put Beth in the situation. That wasn't good at all. I would walk in first, knocking before just walking in. Kyra would be sitting in that red chair, Bonnet at her feet, as she read, her stomach now big. Not huge, but big. She would look up at me and drop her book. She'd manage to get out of the chair and then Beth would come up behind me and she would look between the two of us and go into a fit of rage. She was fiery woman.

I honestly didn't want her to find out about Beth. It would put more stress on her.

If she was even alive.

That was an outcome, too. I showed up at the house, bursted through the door, expecting to see Kyra, and look around, as Morgan ran to the door and threw her arms around me.

And I would still be looking for her when Michonne would say: "Where's Kyra?"

But I always pushed that thought out of my head. She was alive. I'm sure she was. She may be alone, or she may be with someone. But either way, she'd make it.

And as for Beth, she would just have to fit into the scheme of things. She was a survivor too. But she needed people. Kyra would just have to get her head around the idea that Beth wasn't leaving. I would have to protect her too. And Kyra would definitely not like that.

I wanted to get home to Kyra as soon as possible. And every car we've checked out was just shit. Either the tired were gone to piss, the gas tank was empty, the battery was dead, or the wheel was gone (One strange case). So, it seemed impossible.

Last night was weird. Beth Greene was weird.

I didn't like getting drunk. It was ok when I was in a good mood and Kyra and me were just fooling around. But not when I was pissed off already. It made me weird, angry.

And I had lied to Kyra and told Beth the truth. That was never good. But, like I said earlier, I was drunk. So, maybe Kyra would understand.

If I ever told her.

I had mostly blocked out my life before the walkers, refused to talk about it with Kyra. And I had opened up and talked about it with Beth. That would cause friction.

Kyra thought I was a hunter before... Everything. That was mostly true, wasn't a whole lie. But she really thought that's what I did for a living. And I never told her. What would she do when she found out I was a nobody? That I was a bum?

I wouldn't tell her unless she asked. Ever.


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Michonne's POV

I was already throwing my katana in the passenger seat, determination in my stride as I threw the back pack in the back too. Who knew how long I'd be gone? I'd packed plenty of water and just enough food, but I may have to stop for more.

I didn't like taking food from them, but I only took a little. They'd be fine for at least three weeks if Raul didn't keep feeding his kids extra. Even Morgan had gotten on to him for that.

"Michonne!" Tray yelled, running out of the house, jerking his shirt on. He was panicked. I hadn't woken him up to tell him I was going. I hadn't woken anyone up. That was the point. I was just going to leave. They were going to try to stop me, especially Tray, and I didn't have that kind of time.

"Tray," I turned to him, my arm resting on the open door, "go back inside."

"You were gonna leave!" he yelled accusingly, his face hurt. I frowned, sighing loudly. All I did was nod. I didn't have the courage to tell him that I was. I couldn't look at him and admit that. He had that terrible affect on me.

He looked sad, his face broken. I had slipped up and let myself fall in love with him. It was a mistake. I already loved Daryl and Kyra more than I would like to admit, I had let them become my family. I couldn't risk going into another depression like before. Not like with Andrea. They were hard to come back from and I needed to stay strong. I couldn't do that if I lost him. Not now. I almost resented him for it. But most of all I resented myself. It was selfish.

"You promised him you wouldn't go," he nearly whispered. The betrayal was too thick in his voice. Too sad. I couldn't crack. I had to find them.

"I know, but-"

"Michonne, they're just late."

"There's something wrong, Tray. When Daryl says he'll do something he damn well does it," I didn't want to leave him like that, feeling abandoned. But I needed to find them.

"Give it a few days-"

"It's been nine days!" I stopped him, feeling flush. "They should have been back two days ago!"

"There may have been a hold up," Tray tried to calm me down, stretching his arms out to me.

"Like what?" I crossed my arms and glared at him, sick to my stomach. "What could possibly hold them up? Traffic?"

"No," he didn't drop his arms. "Flat tire. Brakes quit working. Kyra got sick. That sheriff guy, what's his name?"

"Rick."

"Rick. He may have saw them and wanted to catch up. Shit happens, Michonne. They're fine, I'm sure. Come back inside."

We stared each other down for a minute, his face begging me to just walk back in the house. I reluctantly fell into his arms, giving him a quick hug.

"I'm not going in. I have to find them, Tray." I felt a burden on my heart and I knew one of them needed me. These things couldn't be explained, just like when Kyra felt the pull towards Beth.

When she got back I would tell her. I would finally sit her down and tell her that Beth is not who she thinks she is. I by no means wanted to be the person who did it, but it looks like I'll be the only one.

"Michonne... Don't do this. Please? We need you here. Daryl and Kyra are fine. You promised him you wouldn't look, don't go looking. You're only going to make it more frustrating for us. The worlds a big place. And if they're not at that prison, only God knows where they are. There will be no point in you looking for 'em."

I remained silent, his arms still loosely around my waist, my hands on his chest, palms spread out, halfway pushing away from him.

I was so stupid for letting him be this close to me. I had chastised Kyra and Daryl (in my head) for falling for each other. You couldn't afford to do that. Nobody was safe. We were all going to die eventually. And the others, the survivors, had to carry on. They had to keep on surviving. We couldn't do that if we were mourning the loss of someone every time we turned around, and it seemed like we were.

"Don't be like Kyra," he interrupted my thoughts, bringing me back to the person I was held down to, "She felt the need to go somewhere and now she's two days late. Don't be her."

I'm sure that took a lot for him to say since he thought so highly of Kyra. He'd been defending her all week, saying she was a loyal person and a bunch of crap like that. He was such a good person. He may see her as loyal, but he was the loyal one. The two became friends and he would go to the end of the world to protect her, even if it meant just her reputation. He'd do it for anyone he called family, blood or not. And he called Kyra his little ginger sister. (She refused to believe she was a ginger, saying it was strawberry blonde.)

I nodded and walked away from him, his arms falling from my waist. His face fell once again, saddened. He thought I was going despite his begging.

I walked to the car and reached to the back, getting my bag out, and then grabbed my katana.

I turned back around, throwing him the backpack. He caught it, at first a bit confused, eyebrows bunched together.

"Let's go on in," I sighed, and smiled slightly. He did the same and my heart surged with irritable joy.

I was so so stupid.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

I had been walking on the train track for hours. It was getting dark on me, that scared me. More than I would like to admit really. I've never spent a night alone through all this. I always had someone there, even if they were a room away. I was never alone. And now, I was. I wasn't even alone in shelter. I was on train tracks that probably hadn't been used in years.

I had been crying for most of it. I had begged Daryl to come out here what seemed like a thousand years ago because I felt like someone I loved, wasn't always happy with, but loved was in trouble. I had nearly corrupted my marriage, risked my life, lost my husband, and my favorite book over what? Some little bitch that turned me in because she had the hots for my husband.

I wiped my nose, my gun by my side. I'd been a blubbering mess and thanked God repeatedly for only seeing two walkers. It was such a sick twist of hope.

I needed to find some kind of car or shelter, and that meant getting off the train track. But it provided me something that didn't change and I didn't really want to leave it. Right now I wanted something predictable. And this train track came through for me.

But I needed to sleep and I needed to stay alive.

I pushed back my unruly hair and looked up at the sky. The sun was going down too fast.

"Son of a bitch," I whispered, first words murmured since I'd said my terrible goodbyes to Rick and Carl.

I hoped so badly that they found that sanctuary and they had some food and shelter and a break from running. That's what I needed.

I felt like I was never one place long before something happened and I was once again leaving, sometimes with new people.

The first time, my dad was with me, the second time, I was with my neighbors, the third time, I was with Michonne, and the rest up until the end I had my lovely Daryl. And this last time... I was with Rick and Carl.

I wanted to find Daryl. I wanted him now. I felt like our baby was yearning for him, wanted to hear his voice, feel his touch on my stomach, even though I was barely showing. I'm sure it was all in my head, but it didn't matter. I needed him.

As I finally gave up and walked off the tracks, heading into the scary unknown, I thought over all that had happened to me.

Beth. That one hurt so bad, worse than the stinging pain in my arm I felt when I nearly got shot. Worse than Jack and his cruel abuse. Worse than stitches. Worse than... Worse than Dad. Worse than Mom. It was betrayal. It was horrifying, deceitful, jealous betrayal. I had known she had tried to gain Daryl, but I had held on to the small hope that maybe she didn't know about me and him and was just...

Just what? Looking to get laid? Or did she feel something for him? Something like I had felt, only I acted on it sooner? Could the roles have been so easily reversed?

The answer was no. I had no one but her and Daryl, who I suppose was supposed to be some kind of mentor or father figure. She had Maggie, Glenn, Hershel, Judith. She had things to live for and to love. I didn't. I had gained mine through her friendship and through my curiosity of Daryl. I wanted to know more and more about him with every trip and, I had never admitted it before, but maybe I had fallen in love with him before he kissed me that night in the library.

Beth Greene didn't know what that felt like. Beth tried to be a good friend and she failed. Instead of admitting to me that she had liked Daryl (liked?), she lied. And she thought she had gotten away with it.

The sound of walkers snapped me to attention. I turned towards the direction, just a few of them coming around some cars, but too many for me to take by myself. They had noticed me, but I could get away.

I began a slow jog, not sure how far I'd make it in my jeans and moccasins. But I would keep up a slow pace until I found a house worth staying in. Just for the night. And in the morning I would get my shit together and find a car or truck or something to bring me home to my Daryl.

I was so far away from where I had left Rick and Carl. I must have been jogging for three miles by now. In all honesty, my lungs felt like they were going to explode and everything ached. But I just kept running down this little dirt and gravel path, my shins screaming for me to stop.

Eventually, as all daylight was blinking out, a little gray car came into view, just ahead on the little road. I walked to it, hoping for the best. If anything, I could use it as a shelter for the night and head out again.

When I got to it, I realized it wouldn't be too much protection. One of the windows was busted out of it, there were holes in the roof and there was a flat tire. Most I it was rusted.

But, besides a faint mildewed smell, the seats were fine. I crawled in the back, having to climb over the seats, and laid down, exhausted. I put my head opposite of the busted window, the passenger side, and held my gun in my hand, my finger by the safety. It wasn't the safest way to sleep, but I was so nervous I probably wouldn't move anyway.

If I was with Daryl, or anyone really, it would have been a few hours before I went to sleep. I would stay up and talk or think. But instead I fell asleep within a few minutes, knowing my neck would hurt when I woke up.

My dream was weird, and I didn't realize I was dreaming until I woke up. But I was at home, in my real bed, the one Daryl and I shared. It was dark. Nothing unusual.

Then, out of the only window in the used to be nursery, a bright light expanded, until I felt like I was going to go blind or die. It was a hot light, and I tried to shield my eyes from it, but I couldn't in the weird way dreams work.

When the light dulled down and I could finally see, a woman with blonde hair stood in front of me, a long white gown draped off her slender shoulders. She wasn't much taller than me, with a kind face and blue eyes. She smiled down at me with thin, rosy lips, just barely showing any teeth. Just like she always did.

"Mom?" I whispered, my words echoing off the dream world, coming back to me in different tones. But when she spoke, her voice was clear and went straight to me.

"Hello, my love," she nodded, her hand fell on my shoulder and her hot energy made it's warm way into my body.

"How?" was all I could manage out, the words came back to me again, trying to confuse me.

"It doesn't matter. What matters is what I'm fixing to tell you. Ok?"

I nodded, feeling tears come to my eyes.

"My soul was trapped," she whispered, the heat growing through my body.

"Trapped?"

Trapped. Trapped. Trapped. The dream repeated the words to me. But she began talking again and all the voices shut up.

"Yes, love. Trapped. I could not stop my body from doing the things it did. Nor could I feel the things it did. But I could watch. I wasn't aloud in-"

"In where?"

In where? In where? In where? In-

"Hush, Kyra. I only have a little time. I wasn't aloud in until my body was dead. For my soul may have fled, but the body had to die. Thus, I watched and waited with all the others. And tonight, I felt a tug right here," she pointed to the center of her forehead with a slender finger. "And suddenly, the gate opened. I was able to walk through, darling."

She looked so proud and I felt my throat tighten up.

"Mom-" mom. mom. mom. "Why'd you come back?" Come back. Come back? Come back.

"I was told to give a last gift," she tilted her head slightly and my covers slowly inched away from me, my shirt slowly lifted, just barely showing my expanding stomach. She reached her hand out and gently laid it on my stomach, palm stretched out.

The heat felt different, felt more like the warmth you feel when you're surrounded by blankets and happiness and Daryl...

"What are you doing?" You doing? You doing? You doing? Doing? Doing? Ing?

"Giving you a gift," her voice was barely above a whisper. She cocked her head as if she were listening, her eyes looked up, her finger on her chin as the other hand retracted from my stomach.

"He's a little old for you, don't you think, honey?" she smiled down at me. "Two years older than me," she made a playful 'tsk' noise. "But, we always knew you'd find someone older, even if it sent your father to his grave."

I frowned.

"I'm sorry." I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

She shook her head, her blonde hair moving freely with it, pure and beautiful. She was always so beautiful.

"What for?" she asked, her voice so mellow and calm. Like she was peaceful.

"That I broke ever moral you ever taught me: no sex before marriage, find someone your age, make sure he's a Christian. Mom, I just... I don't know." I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.

"I like him. It's ok. He's troubled. He's got a past. But he loves you. More than I think even you realize. The age difference doesn't matter to me. Be careful. Be good to him. See you soon," she reached down and wiped the tears I hadn't realized had fallen.

"Mom?" Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom.

"I love you."

She was growing dimmer.

"Mom!" Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom..

And with a last, happy smile, she was gone. And I was alone. Back in the car, my stomach and shoulder still tingling from my odd dream.

/

Foreshadowing?

Lizzie is fucking messed up guys. And I liked Mika! She was so cute! Damn it. Oh well. I guess death is part of the show. Can't wait for next week! The sneak peek clip Chris showed was amazing!

Just finished up Chapter 26! Can't wait for you guys to read!


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE  
Needless to say, I was a little spooked out by my dream. The weird fuzzy feeling in my stomach and shoulder didn't help either. I had barely thought of my mom in the past few years, let alone have a full on dream about her. And in that dream I was pretty sure she was an angel. It was so weird...

I took it as a sign from God. He must have wanted me to know her walker body had been killed. I recalled my mom, Amillia, gently touching the center of her forehead. Right where you would hit a walker so it died. It gave me happiness and depression at the same time.

But I couldn't dwell on it. I had no clue how far away I was from my home. I hadn't even known it was in North Carolina until Daryl circled it for me. Did he know until that moment? He had to have, right?

I took the map out of my waistband and opened it, staring at the red circle, behind it multiple black dots from Rick's directions. I needed to find out where I was and remake it. Unfortunately, I had no clue as to how. This would be so effortless with Daryl. If he would have just taught me-

No. I wasn't going to play the blame game. This was my fault. I was the reason that I wasn't with him. I was the reason for everything going wrong. I couldn't touch him, whisper to him, kiss him, love him. All because of me.

I realized I was crying, deep sobs came to my lips, rocking me to the core. I covered my mouth with my hand, leaning into it as I cried, trying to be quiet and failing. It was like all the emotional and physical stress came all at once; not just Beth, but everything.

"I can't," I managed out between sobs, shaking my head. "I can't do this."

I was sure of it. All my determination had left me, escaped through the unpleasant seats while I was sleeping last night. I wanted to just wait here and either starve to death or be a meal for an ugly, son of a bitch walker. But I had no fight in me left. That was for sure. I had no will, no reason to even try anymore.

'That's so like you,' a voice whispered. I turned, my sobs stopping all at once, my eyes burning, but saw no one. Then I realized it was, in fact, all in my head. The voice was some inner conscience made up from my stress and loneliness.

"What's so like me?" I asked myself.

I was talking to myself. I was officially crazy. I was officially a psycho.

'To just give up. You always have someone else fight your battles. Put on your big girl pants. Get out of this mildewed piece of shit and go find Him.'

I shook my head, covering my face with my hands, my nose pressed against the handle of my gun. My lips trembled.

"I can't. I can't." I nearly sobbed.

'Why not?' the voice demanded an answer. It wasn't my own voice. More like Morgan's gentle voice mixed with Michonne's badass-ness.

I thought about it for a moment before wiping my nose with my wrist.

"I don't know how to do anything. I can't find my way back. Nobody ever taught me how to use a map. No one ever showed me how to drive-"

'So teach yourself! Maps aren't that hard! And Rick showed you a lot on driving. You could do it. It may take you twice as long, and you may get lost but you can damn well do it.'

I shook my head once again, to the anger inside my head.

"I have nothing to do it for. For all I know he's dead. What's to fight for."

'Nothing to do it for? How selfish are you?' the voice shouted, (shouted? It was inside my head, right? I was fucking crazy, right!?) 'Daryl damn well may be debating on tracking your skinny ass down, pacing back in forth on your porch back in N.C.'

"Or-"

'Or!' my own self interrupted me, 'How about fighting for that damned kid growing in your belly! I'm giving you the Worst Soon-To-Be-Mom Award! Have you forgotten about the product of you and Daryl constantly going at it?'

I placed a hand on my stomach, running it across the small bump. It- whatever it was- was right. That stupid voice in my head.

"I lost my other baby."

'I know this,' the voice said matter-of-factly. Oh, yeah. It was inside my head. It was me.

"Four months. That could be the same for this one," my hand ran across my stomach again.

'Don't you remember your mother giving you a gift? Even if you lose Daryl, surely you'll still have his child. It would be a cruel world if you didn't.'

"It's already a cruel world."

'It's always been that way. You were just too young to see it... Now, get out of this seat and get moving. You have people who love you and are counting on you. Go go go go!'

I groaned and crawled over the seats, fumbling uneasily until I was sitting in the front seat, my head pressed against the steering wheel, gun in one hand, map in the other.

The last two things I had.

The sun told me it was around noon. I had overslept, yet I still felt like shit. Today, I needed to find a car. I couldn't be too picky either. Sure, I would have looked a little longer and gotten something I could actually drive well. But, I would be lucky to get something period.

I brushed back my hair out of my face, checked the car for anything I could use, and slowly crawled out.

There was a field to my left and woods to my right. I could either keep going down this back road or turn around and head back from where I came.

For all I knew, this could be a long ass drive way and I was wasting my time.

But drive way meant car, right? Maybe?

I was hopeful, and, shoving my map back into my waist band, I started off again.

I kept my thoughts off Beth. If I thought of her, I would be too mad to do anything else but cry. So I shoved her and Daryl out of my mind. I shoved everything out and thought of only memories. The good ones, before the walkers.

I thought a lot about Dad and Mom. The stories they would tell me when I was little, out of my illustrated Bible Nursery story book.

Mom and her Sunday make up ritual, how she would curl my hair when I was little and let me wear red lip stick. But only on Sunday. And all the old women would talk about how cute I was. I would feel... well the age I was now. So grown up and sophisticated.

Now I just feel like I was six again, small and worthless.

But I wasn't innocent. I was so far from being innocent. I was such a dirty person now. My hands weren't clean like they used to be. It made me feel so... empty.

Within an hour I stumbled upon a farm house, being as quite as possible. I stalked low as I rounded around a barn, my gun ready, safety off.

I let out a sigh of relief when the barn was void of any walker life. But I didn't completely let my guard down.

I went inside and checked out the little farm truck out, an iron gate like thing around the back, probably for hauling stuff. I sighed and looked for keys. Nada. I would have to go inside the house and hope there was some in there.

I left the barn and once again crept around to the house. I waited just outside the white screen doors, my heart thumping in my chest. Who the hell knew what was on the other side of that door?

I slowly opened the door, tip toeing inside as my palms grew sweatier, my gun firmly in my hand. I wouldn't have been nearly as nervous if I wouldn't have been pregnant. It was all I could do to grip the gun.

The door stepped into a little kitchen, and to my delight, there were keys on the table. Quite a few sets, but I could weed through them and see if any of them fit the truck outside.

I grabbed the keys, trying to be quite as I slid them off the counter, and put them in my back pocket. It'd be cool to actually have keys, not a screw driver. If they worked, that is.

I debated on checking the cabinets or not and my growling stomach told me it would be wise to do so.

I opened a few, not finding much of anything. But eventually I opened it up to a dusty jar of pickles and half opened crackers along with cereal boxes and other old stuff I doubted was exactly fresh. But I took the jar of pickles and headed back out to the barn, quietly closing the door behind me.

Once back in the barn, I set the pickles on the ground and took out the keys, setting my gun on the hood of the truck.

I picked a small, silver key with a circular top first. There were only six keys and I figured one of them had to open the truck door, as it was locked.

The silver key didn't work and I slid it off the key ring, tossing it in the dirt at my feet. I brushed my hair back and said a silent prayer for the next key, a small, bronze one with a more boxy top. It also didn't work. I took it off the key ring and let it join it's fallen brother.

The next one I picked was another silver one, a bit dirty. It had a boxy top and was only slightly larger than the other two. I said another prayer over it and skeptically slid it against the small slit in the door.

To my pure pleasure it slid in. I turned it in disbelief, and the lock turned with me. In my state of shock I almost cried out in joy. But I remembered I had to be quiet and instead grabbed my gun and the pickles and slid into the dusty old front seat on the farm truck.

I set my gun in the seat beside me, the truck being like one giant bench with a smaller one in the extended cab. I opened the jar of pickles and took one out, quickly eating it. I was so hungry and I barely tasted the sourness of it. I are another one. And then another before remembering I probably needed to save some for the trip home. (Home!)

I put the lid back on the jar, set facing on it's side in the passenger seat, and wiped my hands on my pants before sticking the key in the ignition.

At first, it just made a clunking sound.

"Oh, no... Come on, don't do this to me..." I begged it, trying again. It moaned in protest, and I tried again. This time it squeaked to life and I let out a small burst of laughter.

"He's watching over me," I sang out, something my mom used to say.

I backed the truck- very badly- out of the barn and then down the drive way, where I met a few walkers. I headed back the way I came, only going about twenty miles an hour. I couldn't really tell. The speedometer on the truck wasn't exactly working.

I soon passed the little moldy car I had slept in and silently thanked it for sheltering me before going on.

Now I had a vehicle. Now I had a faster way back to Daryl, who was surely waiting on me back home.


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

It was confusing, frustrating, hard, and depressing. But somehow I made it back home, back where Daryl waited for me. It was like I couldn't pull up soon enough, couldn't brake soon enough, couldn't get to that house soon enough. I needed him so very badly. How long had it been? I had lost count of the days. I was miserable with Rick and Carl, and even more miserable the four or five days I was completely alone.

It was rough. It had taken me three days, seeing as how I didn't go fast at all and I got lost more than I would like to admit. It was hard to figure out the map. Plus I stopped driving as soon as I couldn't see anymore and went to sleep until I woke up, normally before the sun even came back up. I was a sleepy, hungry, miserable mess.

I had to go through some mountain-ish area that I swore wasn't there before, something there just to throw me off. But I made it. I was home. I was just outside the house, my hands shaking. I was home. I was home. I was home. And Daryl waited just inside. He had to be. I saw his motorcycle propped against the house and my heart surged with an unimaginable job. It had been moved since we left. That meant he was home, right? That meant he was there, just inside, right?

I unbuckled my seat belt, turned off the truck, and didn't even get out before Tray came running across the lawn towards me. I had hoped it was Daryl first, but I'm sure he was on his way. He was coming. He was slow.

"They're home!" he yelled, throwing his arms around me, picking me off the ground. I hugged him back, I looked over his shoulder in false hope.

'They're'. That meant Daryl wasn't here. They thought he was with me. My hope instantly bursted. I felt like every weight that had been lifted off me when I pulled up came hurtling back down at me, tackling me and stealing my breath. Except it was worse.

"Where is he?"

Michonne. She looked around, expecting to see him. Maybe? I couldn't read her. And I honestly didn't care. He wasn't here. He wasn't here. I thought he was so close and he's not. When would I get to him? Would I ever get him? Why couldn't I just hold him? Why couldn't we just be together? Why did I have to fuck everything up?

I felt like a giant hand was crushing my heart. I felt my knees buckle underneath me, Tray's arms catching me, lifting me up as I tried to push back tears. I once again felt the sense of defeat. Felt my will drain away. I didn't want to live. I couldn't live. He wasn't here. He was dead. He was dead. He was dead.

'Or,' that evil voice whispered to me, 'he's with _her_. He doesn't care about _you _anymore. He has her pinned against a tree, his hand down her pants, hers on his stomach. He has his tongue down her throat right now. He doesn't care about _you_ anymore. He cares for _her_! Why do you think he ran away with her? Why do you think he didn't come looking for you? He doesn't care. He only said to meet him back there so you wouldn't come looking for him.'

"He's not with her," Tray answered Michonne for me, holding me to him.

'_That _was the plan all along. To make it think it was _your _idea to go back to the prison. That way he could see_ her_ again and they could run away together.'

"Oh, God," I moaned, my legs completely loosing the will to hold me up. I crumpled, only staying up because Tray had a tight grip around me.

"Hey, sweets, shh," he lifted my legs from under me, cradling me to his chest.

"What's wrong with her? Is she bit?" Michonne asked, worry or fear or annoyance in her voice. I couldn't tell. My ears were listening but my brain wasn't caring.

"No. I think she's in shock."

He carried me inside, Michonne following behind us. He pushed past Morgan and Raul, who had been standing in the doorway, pushing the kids back.

"Is she bit?" Morgan's quite voice asked as we passed. Tray jerked his head 'no', caring me past the door and towards the staircase. This time Morgan followed, Michonne stayed behind, telling Robert now wasn't a good time.

Within a few minutes I was laying on my cold, unused bed, my shoes off as I stared at the ceiling, eyes wife. It's like my body had completely went into shut down mode. I could hear. But I didn't care what I heard. I could feel. But I didn't care what I felt. Because it wasn't _him _I was hearing and it wasn't _him_ I was feeling.

Emptiness.

'You know who he's with? You know what they're doing?' the voice hissed.

I was crying but at that moment I didn't care. I just laid there until the water blurred my vision, then I would blink and they'd go running down my cheeks.

"Do you think he's dead?"

Raul.

"Well, he wasn't with her..."

Morgan.

"He can take care of himself. He doesn't need her to do it for him. It's a miracle she got back without him. There's no way he's dead."

Michonne.

"But he wouldn't just leave her."

Morgan again.

"He could have died saving her."

Tray.

"How'd she get up here? I thought she couldn't drive?"

Raul.

I blocked them out, letting total, complete numbness over take me.

I soon fell asleep, completely exhausted, emotionally that is.

No dreams came to me and it wasn't long before I woke up, the sun just coming up.

I laid there, forgetting where I was for a moment. Then I remembered that I was home. I turned over as if to lay against Daryl, but as soon as I turned I realized he wasn't there. I stared at the empty spot where he would normally lay and felt my heart tighten. He wasn't here.

I rolled back over on my back, sighing loudly. I would actually have to get up and do something today. Not much. I just wanted to die so I doubt I would be doing anything. But I would need to eat. It was unfair to my baby if I didn't. It needed me. I couldn't fail it, I already failed Daryl.

I stood up and walked over to my dresser, my whole body aching with sadness. I peaked off the sweaty yellow shirty and threw it in the floor, took off my dirty jeans and tossed them by the shirt. For a moment I just stood their in my underwear, imagining Daryl coming off the bed to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He'd rest his chin on my shoulder for just a minute before he felt my hands go over his. Then he'd kiss my neck. My head, in reality, tilted as if I really felt it, as if he was really there.

I sighed, my neck straightening again. I grabbed a shirt from the dresser, one of three left, and shorts before pulling them on and heading out of the room.

As soon I was outside, Tray's head snapped up. He had been sitting on the floor across the hall from my room.

"You just missed Michonne," he wiped his eyes as if he'd been asleep. I stood in front of him and nodded. "You hungry?" I nodded again. He smiled slightly. "Are you a mute now?"

A very small smile crossed my face.

"No," I said quietly.

"Come on, let's go down stairs," he stood and together we walked to the kitchen, where Raul and Morgan waited. Michonne walked in a few minutes later, handing me an apple.

"Did you know there's an apple tree out there? Just by the little creak," she shrugged as I took the apple. I stared at it before hesitantly biting in to it.

After I had a few chews in, they began their questioning.

"Kyra, we know you're upset," Morgan began, "but we would like to know what happened."

I looked up at her, eyes tired and sad.

"There's not much to say," I said quietly, "We got separated. I made it back before he did."

"So he's not dead?" I turned to Raul at the sound of his voice.

"As far as I know, no," I shook my head, trying to appear more calm than I actually was. I wasn't sure if it was working. I was a mess on the inside.

"What happened that you guys got separated?" Michonne, arms crossed. She looked anxious, wondering where he was too. I swallowed the last bite of my apple, feeling my heart beat faster at the horrible memories.

"He came back."


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

I sat at the dining room table for an hour, retelling the horrifying story of the Governor and his new band of ass holes. I had stopped to sob more than once, Morgan had tried to comfort me, and eventually they just let me ride out the sobs before I began talking again, waiting patiently to find out what had happened to Daryl, why he wasn't back. They wanted the whole story and it was torture for me to tell it. They had to know that, right?

Finally, red nosed, stingy eyed, and emotionally unstable, I finished my story, slouched in my chair, wiping my nose often. I was so out of it. I had managed to somehow not completely break down while I was away, and now, in the comfort of my 'home', I was 100% letting go. Mostly because I was holding myself together because I knew it would be better when I got home. Because he'd be there, waiting for me. Why wasn't it that why? Why did I have to be so wrong?

"So," Michonne began, a look of almost pity on her face. But I wasn't stupid. In that pity was jealousy and spite, "you killed him? You really did it?"

She sounded almost like she didn't believe me, almost like I made it all up. Like I had gone out, viciously murdered Daryl while his back was turned, got a new truck, and came back. Like I had completely made up the story. Like I wanted to be away from him.

I shook my head 'no'.

"I don't think I actually killed him. He may have bled out or... Or maybe a walker got him. But I definitely disabled him. There wasn't a way that he could have made it out there without any help... And the prison group killed his help."

Michonne nodded. Was she mad at me? Did she blame me for losing Daryl like I blamed myself? If I hadn't have wanted to go back so bad, if I hadn't have urged him, we would be asleep right now, his arm thrown lazily around my waist, his nose by my neck, snoring lightly.

But he wasn't. Only God knows where he was.

"And you just ran off with that Rick guy?" Raul. His eyes were squinted.

"And his son, Carl. They protected me," I said half-heartedly. They may have protected you, but in the end you wound up alone. My hand absent-mindedly went to my stomach and I caressed it over the shirt, knowing part of Daryl was in there.

"Would Daryl have liked that very much?" he threw at me accusingly. What a pig.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I sat up, feeling almost too exhausted to fight with him. But felt anger rise up in me. "You always do this, Raul!" I yelled, "You always make me out to be the bad person! Every single time! I didn't do anything Daryl wouldn't have approved of, ok? I'm not the fucking whore you think I am! And I'm damn tired of you treating me like it!" I screamed, slammed my hands on the table and Michonne frowned. Everyone stared at me as she walked around the table, gently touching my shoulder.

"Kyra-" she began, but she didn't get to finish. I burst into tears, soppy wet ones that ran down my cheeks on to the table as I stood up.

"I've already lost him!" I yelled at Raul. Not yelled. Screamed. My throat hurt with the force behind it. It was high pitched and made Michonne curl back, but only for a moment.

"I lost him! And I feel so empty without him. I don't know if I'll ever see him again! So if you could just leave me the fuck alone and quit acting like I'm a terrible person, it'd be fucking great!" my voice lowered to almost a low whimper as I sank back in my chair, my chin quivered. Everyone was silent as the stared at me.

"I love him. I love him and no one will believe me. What's it fucking matter if he's older than me?" I looked up at Michonne, asking my rhetorical question.

"It doesn't-"

"Why can't people just accept us? It's like everyone I've met just instantly thinks something happened. 'He raped her,'" I mimicked, "'She's a temptress, he was already married.' 'She must be a whore.' Everyone's so judgmental. Nobody gets that we just _love _each other! And now he's gone and I'm being accused of _cheating_ on him!"

"Kyra, nobody said that," Michonne's voice was low, too. She laid a hand on my shoulder. So, maybe she didn't blame me. Maybe she just expected Daryl too.

"Oh, but Raul sure did imply it," I stared at him, and he stared back, face blank. I hoped he felt bad. I hoped he felt terrible.

Instead, Raul scooted his chair and walked out of the room, going God knows where. I didn't care. At all, really.

I looked over at Morgan. Because, however, I did come to care for her.

She shook her head, her hand over her mouth.

"Coward," she mumbled, closing her eyes.

My hand reached over and grabbed hers, squeezing it gently. She looked up and smiled slightly.

"I guess there's nothing we can really do but wait," Tray finally said after a few minutes of silence.

"Guess not," I felt like someone was closing all the blood flow away from my heart. I was slowly dying without him. I wouldn't make it without him.

'You did fine before he came into your life, you'll do fine after.'

It's something I had said to a friend whenever she had a breakup. How very wrong of me. The only reason I was fine before Daryl is because I was ignorant of what love was, I had no clue. Now I've felt it and it's passionate with him. I'll never feel that love again if he doesn't come back to me. Ever.

"Maybe you should go back up a lay down," Tray suggested. "You got up pretty early."

I shook my head 'no'.

"I don't want to sleep. I don't want to be alone. I just want to be with people who understand me."

"We understand you, honey," Morgan squeezed my hand, looking at me sympathetically. "We love you and he loves you. He's coming back, I know it."

It was true. I knew it was. He had to come back to me. There was no other way but for him to come back. I would die if he didn't. I wouldn't make it past August.

/

Terminusis evil. Mark my words! Beware! Beware!


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR  
Daryl's POV  
We had found a car. That was good. It was just a little old white car from the 90's, but it would work. I was driving, Beth was asleep in the passenger seat. She'd been up all night and I honestly felt bad. We'd looked for some kind of transportation for three days now, now that I convinced her to leave this place and head to the safe spot where Kyra and me were staying. I had been telling her a little about Tray and Raul and Morgan. A lot about Robert. I had kept her up most of the nights, and vice versa. I wasn't too big on talking, but we would. Sometimes.

We'd been driving for a day now. I hadn't gotten much sleep and the road in front of me kept blurring. I would need to pull over soon and go to sleep. I didn't trust Beth to drive while I was asleep. We'd end up somewhere in Florida. And then I'd probably strangle her from frustration.

At first, when we got wasted together, I knew Kyra would be mad. Hell far, she'd be pissed, furious. But now I'd be damn lucky if she'd stay with me- if she found out. I didn't intend for her to either.

Fucking piggy back rides, holding hands, her singing to me. What the hell was I thinking? Kyra could never find that out. She would never trust me again. I was an ass for it, that much was obvious.

Luckily, after I realized what I was doing, I moved us along, telling her we didn't need to stay the night there at the funeral home thing. We just needed to move on. I needed to get to Kyra. She kind of understood why the sudden change, but I didn't care.

I didn't see it as cheating or stepping out of boundaries. We were just being friendly and there wasn't a damn thing wrong with that. Kyra and Tray are chummy all the time and I don't get pissed off. So why do I know she's just gonna flip out whenever I tell her?

I'm not going to tell her. If she asks, I'm not going to lie. But I'm sure as hell not just going to offer the information up for her. That'd be signing my own death wish.

I had already done that when I let Beth talk me into a drinking game. Two and a half weeks ago.

I realized I was swerving when I almost ran into a truck on the other side of the road and jerked the wheel, making Beth stir beside me. She slowly raised her head, eyes squinted.

"Are we there?" she asked, voice raspy. It was still dark and I could barely make out her face.

"No," I shook my head, not looking at her. I would feel guilty. And for what? Absolutely nothing. I hadn't done shit.

"What happened?" she sat up, stretching. I just caught a glimpse of it in my peripheral. I tried not to pay attention.

"Nothin'."

She stared at me, I could see her do it. She 'didn't like it when I was short.' God, she was just like Kyra.

No she wasn't. Kyra was loyal. Kyra wouldn't hold the hand of a guy who's already with someone...

Look at that. She's gotten to where I don't even call her my wife anymore. Fuck I was in trouble.

/

Super short chapter calls for two in one day, right!?


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE  
MICHONNE'S POV  
Kyra had been sitting on the porch when the little white car had rolled up. She was drawing something, Bonnet on the swing beside her, head in her lap. She had never liked that dog, but now they were inseparable. Maybe they comforted each other, Daryl's girls. His wife and his dog. Kyra slowly lifted her head to look at the car, her face showed no expression.

I had seen out of the window and ran out, my katana ready, in case this white car held unfriendly people. I looked between Kyra and the car. She seemed so calm. She hadn't talked much since we made her spill about the trip. I hadn't expected her to. She went to bed early, woke up even earlier, and would normally spend her days on the front porch, drawing whatever it was she was drawing, Bonnet's head in her lap.

It had been three days since she arrived and it had seemed to me that she had given up all hope of finding Daryl. That saddened me. The first day, she sat on the porch and continually looked down the driveway, expecting him to come walking up. After a few minutes she would give up and go back to her drawing for thirty seconds before looking up again. The second day she did it every ten minutes or so; she would pause and stare down the driveway and I could imagine the pain she felt after realizing he wouldn't come up it.

Today, I hadn't seen her look at all. Had she accepted he wasn't coming? Or was she just so numb her body wouldn't let her know the difference. She was definitely in shock and I didn't know when exactly she would come out of it. Did she even really realize he wasn't there? Did she play pretend with herself?

'He's just upstairs asleep, he's tired from working so hard. He's there, in the sheets of our bed, where I had occupied them with him only moments ago. He'll be expecting me to come up soon and lie down with him. But I'm not finished with my drawing and it's a surprise for him, so I'm going to finish it before I go up there. And I know that something with distract me once I get finished with the drawing. Oh, yes, Robert needs me to draw with him. He likes to draw with me, but Morgan told him to leave me alone...'

I could almost hear her making up excuses in her mind. It broke my heart. I thought when they were fighting it was bad. But no. When I thought she was heart broken and sad, that was nothing. That was just small little fights here and there. This was so much worse. She had lost him. And she blamed herself.

Morgan had tried talking to her, but Kyra began sobbing every time she got around to mentioning him. So nobody talked about him. He never existed for now, until she admitted that he was gone. Then, maybe, she would slowly start bringing him up. Then Morgan could work with her.

'He's out on patrol. Wow, you guys keep missing him. He'll be back in a few hours, but he'll probably be sleepy. He'll probably go to bed without coming down for supper. But that's ok. He'll have an early breakfast, Morgan, don't worry. He's not going hungry.'

The car door opened and Kyra stared at it. What was going on in her head? She looked so calm, eyes slightly squinted from the sun, slouched over Bonnet and her multiple stacks of paper, arms crossed. She wasn't wearing shoes. She hadn't in a few days. Her stomach was obviously at the three month mark, just getting where you didn't have to guess if she had a gut on her or was just pregnant.

I stood on the steps to the entrance of the porch, knowing it was him. I could barely see him through the window. He got out of the car, still in the clothes he left in. He was just as sweaty and dirty as he always was. But, if he saw me, he took no notice.

I stepped back and looked over at Kyra, who's face was as blank as it was before. I was waiting for it to register to her that he was standing before her. But she only stared. He stared back, his face pained. Did she completely make her brain forget him?

He moved past me, walking to the porch swing. Bonnet jumped off and ran to him, but he ignored her.

"Kyra?" he said quietly, barely loud enough for me to hear. The passenger door opened and Beth Greene got out, looking sleepy and like she could stretch. I gaped at her only for a second before turning back to them. Why was she so calm? Calm or numb?

Then it showed that she wasn't so calm. She was crying. Silent tears were streaming down her face, she tried to blink them away but it wouldn't happen. They were running and she just stared at him, completely mute.

She got up from her swing and all but threw herself in his arms, crying against his shoulder. He held her to him, and my heart broke a little. But they were together. They were good. I turned away from them and looked at Beth.

"Michonne-" she began, knowing I was fixing to let her have it.

"You come with me," I said silently, going down the stairs. She nodded solemnly. She knew I knew.

I walked down towards the barbed wire fence, just out of ear shot of Daryl and Kyra. No need in ruining their awkward little moment they were having. Maybe now she would talk, maybe she would go back to normal.

"Michonne-"

"Don't 'Michonne' me!" I spun around, voice low. "What did you do, Beth?" I hissed.

"I didn't do anythi-"

"You better not lie to me! She's been through a hell of a lot. And if you laid one finger on him-"

"I didn't, ok?" she whined, blue eyes wide. "We took care of each other. That was it!"

I squinted at her skeptically.

"You took care of him, huh?"

"Not like that, Michonne!" she cried, her face screaming to be forgiven. She looked tired.

"If I could kick you out, I would. You pretended to be her friend; you acted innocent-"

"And you never told her."

She silenced me with those words. She was right. Beth may have done all the terrible deeds, but I was just as in the wrong. I never warned Kyra, never told her.

"Listen," I whispered low and fast, "you stay away from them. You can stay here, but you don't get to talk to him. You don't get to look at him. You can be polite, but you won't have conversations with him. Understand me?"

"Michonne-"

"I'm serious!" I nearly roared, making her flinch back. Good. "And the same for her," I jerked my chin in the direction of the porch.

She looked so upset, her eyebrows high, her mouth in a slightly open frown.

"I didn't mean to hurt her," she whimpered.

"Well, you did. And it's not going to happen again. Whatever may or may not have happened while you and Daryl were alone no longer happened. Understand?"

She nodded her head, her chin quivering.

"I thought you didn't cry anymore?" I hissed, before pushing past her and heading back to the house.


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

"Oh, my God, you're alive. You're alive. You're alive," I kept whispering against his neck, on my tiptoes, nearly sobbing, as he whispered the following back to me:

"I'm so so sorry." Over and over again. It broke my heart. He broke my heart. But now he was back. He was alive. He was with me. And our simultaneous mutterings were only the beginning.

His arms were tightly around me; even if I had wanted to, there'd be no way I could have gotten away from him. He kissed my head in between his apologizing, leaving a tingling feeling wherever he touched. This was so outrageous.

"You're back," I pulled away slightly and we looked at each other for just a few seconds. "You're back and you're alive and healthy," I shook my head, my eyes burning from crying, but I was smiling. They were happy tears. He was safe...

Then I leaned up and kissed him, missing the feeling of his lips on mine and just him in general. Every thing about him. He was alive.

His hand slipped to my stomach and he smiled against my mouth.

"How's our baby doing?" he whispered, our foreheads pressed together.

"Great," I put my hand over his, looking up at him, only seeing part of his face due to being so close.

"Any kicks yet?" he asked, looking hopeful. A shot of jealousy bursted through me. Why couldn't he focus on _me?_ I wanted to focus on him... I wanted to focus on _us_. I just wanted to bask in the fact we were safe together.

I took a deep breath. He was just worried about our baby...

"No. Give it another month, though. I should start getting them then."

"Another month?" he repeated.

"Yeah," I nodded, my blood pumping again. He was home. He was alive. He was here, with me, in my arms.

"Did you feel any? Last time, I mean," he said quietly and my heart fell.

"No," I whispered, fear running through my veins. "No, Daryl, I didn't."

He looked up at me then, his had leaving my stomach, cupping my face instead.

"Sorry."

I nodded, my hands on his torso.

"Everything's ok, now," I whispered, quieter than last time.

"I'll never let it happen again," he leaned down and kissed me again. Just a small peck. More like our lips lightly pressing against each other.

I began crying again. God I hated crying.

He pulled me into him and I cried against his chest, balling up his dirty, sweaty shirt in my hands.

"Don't leave me again," I sobbed into him, making god-awful choking noises. I didn't like them. I hated them. But I couldn't stop crying. I was so freaking emotional.

"I won't," he grunted against my hair, one arm around my waist, the other hand on the back of my neck. Supporting me. He always supported me.

"God, I missed you," I whimpered, putting all my pressure on him. He held me easily.

"I missed you, too, kid."

An old twitch of annoyance.

"Don't call..."

I didn't finish it. It wasn't important. He was here and he was safe.

We just sat there holding each other for a few minutes, me crying.

And then a voice pulled us away.

"Kyra?"

I pushed away from Daryl to see Beth Greene. I hadn't noticed her before. I was too busy picking apart my brain to realize I had Daryl back. But here she was.

I guess I should've figured out that she was with him. I had seen them leave together. But it didn't stop the hurt.

"You..." I said quietly. Daryl's arm was loosely around me now, the one behind my neck completely dropped.

"It's been awhile," she half smiled walking towards me.

She didn't know what Rick told me.

Suddenly every angry emotion I felt since leaving the prison the first time came rushing back to me.

"You fucking bitch!" I roared, charging her. Her eyes went wide and Daryl quickly held me back as I took a swing for her. "You bitch! You traitor!" I screamed.

"Kyra," Daryl warned, his voice low, his mouth by my ear.

"Let me go." I demanded, shooting _him_ a warning look before turning back to Beth, hanging off Daryl's arm.

"I _know_ what you did," I nearly whispered. But my voice got progressively louder. "Don't you dare pretend like we're friends!"

"Kyra."

"Daryl!" I shot back.

But I backed up and Daryl loosened his grip. Beth still stared at me, shocked.

Michonne looked just as shocked. Did she know? Did she know what Beth did?

"Let's go in," Daryl mumbled by my ear, bent down by me. I turned from Beth. My anger slowly dissolving. I looked up at him and slowly nodded.

"Ok," I whispered, my fingers lacing with his as I took deep breaths to calm myself. "Let's go in."

I walked past her and I felt Daryl's hand tighten on me, making sure I didn't try to kill her again.

We walked in and passed the small crowd at the door.

"Daryl?" Tray asked and all Daryl did was nod before we walked up the stairs.

He closed the door to our room behind us, blocking out Beth and Raul and everything I didn't like. It was just us. Just us.

"I missed you," I repeated, looking at him from a foot or so away.

He looked at me for a second, his eyes moving in that quirky way they did when he was thinking.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked, looking at him, although he was looking at my bare feet.

"For leaving you," he finally made brief eye contact. "I should have turned around when you said so," he nodded, agreeing with himself.

"It's not your fault... I'm the one who suggested going to the prison in the first place," and I meant it. I completely laid blame on me. (Not always, but it worked to that way)

"Let's just..." he gestured towards the bed and at first I was blown away by how blatantly he suggested sex. But then I registered he was tired and I nodded, following him into the bed.

And pressed against him, one of his hands on my stomach, we fell asleep. I was now able to completely sleep. I knew he was safe and well.

But Beth was downstairs. Something would have to be done about that.

/

So, if anyone cares, I wrote two alternate chapters to this (in my mind..) and if you'd like to hear them, PM me and I can totally tell you about them. (I enjoy talking with you guys!)

Also, I was going to make a lot more time go in between the reunited scene, but I was afraid some of you would get angry. So, I sped it up a bit. Hope you guys liked it. Xx


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN  
It was like a rush of air to my lungs after being held underwater. It was so many wonderful things. Getting to roll around in bed and bump into him, feel his arm wrap around my waist and pull me to him. It was the little things I missed. The things like his leg grazing mine, his hand on my thigh, the way he pressed against me... Everything.

"Are you ever still?" he muttered, lips pressed against my ear. All I could do was sink back in to him. It was a reminder he was actually there, actually alive. It was so amazing I thought I would start crying again. But I didn't. I just closed my eyes and leaned my head against his shoulder.

I couldn't sleep. I had for the first few hours but I was wide awake now. He was safe and I wanted to ask him so many questions that my body wouldn't let me actually go back to sleep. It was beyond exhilarating.

Finally, I rolled over and looked up at him. Just looked at his sleeping face, so calm and peaceful. Damn I missed that. I missed him. I didn't want anything to ever get in the way of us again, not the bitch downstairs, not a herd of walkers, not Michonne, not Raul. No one.

"Daryl," I whispered. But all he did was slightly scrunch up his nose before going back to normal. "Daryl," I said a little louder. This time his eyes slowly opened up.

"Something wrong?" he mumbled, barely leaning up, looking half heartedly for some danger that wasn't there. Maybe an intruder or a walker who managed to get past the barbed wire. There wasn't anything, dear. Just me. Sorry.

"No, no," I whispered, putting my hand on his chest and gently pushing him down. He looked up at me, eyebrows raised.

"Then why'd you wake me up?"

"How could you be asleep?" I shook my head, propping up on his chest. "I missed you."

"Kyra," he sighed, laying all the way back down and pinching the bridge of his nose. But the other hand went to the small of my back and I took that as a good sign. "I missed you, too."

"Can we talk?" I asked, my heart still going a thousand beats per minute. It was like meeting him for the first time. That awkward 'Hey, Daryl, this is Kyra. She hunts too!" "Oh, really? I could use some help, kid. Mind?" And I had been completely blown away by that mumbling, almost gravely voice. All I could do was nod and hang on to every word he said. He had amazed me. And still does.

"About?" Did he sound annoyed? Surely not? He hadn't seen me in weeks, how could he already be mad at me? Oh, God...

"What happened... A lot happened, Daryl.." I said quietly, pressing my forehead against his chest. He sighed loudly and kissed the top of my head. Daryl, Daryl, Daryl. Don't get mad at me, please? I just miss you. We've barely talked since you came back. So why aren't you? Are you hiding something from me?

"In the morning?" he asked, and when I looked up his eyes were closed, he was probably already drifting into whatever dream world he went to. Was he even completely listening to me?

"Yeah."

I watched until his face went completely peaceful again. How long had it been since he had gotten a good nights sleep? I had at least been able to sleep with Rick and Carl. Could he do that with Beth?

'No, you idiot. He was sleeping _with_ Beth.'

I squeezed my eyes and shut the thought out of my mind. Daryl was loyal. He had not cheated on me with her. He loved me. He loved. He fucking loved me, end of story.

He did right?

He would never do anything that would hurt me, right? Even if he had thought I was dead, he wouldn't have done anything with her until he was sure I was gone right? He would wait years, maybe..?

What the hell was I talking about? I was talking like he wanted to, he was just waiting for me to die off.

'Because he is.'

Obviously he's not. And tomorrow we would talk everything out and I would have no doubt left in me. So no more internal conflict between myself. Because I was turning my own mind against myself.

But as soon as he told me everything and I told him everything, we'd be fine.

I laid back down on my back and stared at the ceiling.

Why didn't I trust him? I should trust him. He had never cheated on me before, right?

'What about that time he refused to tell Carol to leave him alone? And you saw them whispering together... Don't you remember how mad you were?'

That was different. We were still just, I guess, friends with benefits? We weren't together, really. And they were just talking. Nothing bad. And I was so not mad! Was I..?

Daryl's hand found my waist and pulled me to him, wether if it was in his sleep or not, I didn't know. But it comforted me any way.

I leaned against him and closed my eyes. God, I loved him more than anything. I didn't know what I would do exactly if I found anything dirty out. I couldn't lose him. Not again. He was mine and I just wanted to be with him.

'You wouldn't say anything if you found out. Because you want it to be perfect. But why the hell would he bring her home if he hadn't had some kind of bond with her...?'

I shook my head, biting my lip. I really just couldn't believe he was home.

"Daryl," I whispered again, the back of my head pressed against his chest.

"Hmm?" he asked, and I knew his eyes weren't even open.

"Do you love me?"

"Yeah, kid."

Kid.


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I had waited for a good while as he slept, snoring in my ear the way he does. But I didn't mind it, really. He was home and safe. I had to keep reminding myself that because it almost seemed like I was imagining it. Like maybe I had dreamt it and he wasn't there at all.

He woke up not long after the sun came up and it reminded me that I wanted my pocket watch back and I silently hoped he hadn't lost it. If he lost it, I'd steal Michonne's wrist watch.

"Morning," he grunted in my ear, his arms around my shoulders. I smiled and felt color slowly rise to my cheeks.

"Good morning," my hands closed over his and I leaned in to him. I felt him kiss me behind the ear, just softly, and was almost tempted to forget that I wanted to know his side of the story.

"Breakfast?" I finally asked, untangling us and getting up from the bed.

He didn't say anything just half nodded and got up, too. We didn't bother to brush our teeth or anything, just went downstairs.

We held hands, the two of us sticking together like glue. If I stepped forward, he stepped forward; if he stepped back, I stepped back.

When we went downstairs into the dining room, I was reminded of our new guest.

My stomach dropped as soon as I seen her, and Daryl's grip tightened on my hand. She looked up from her bowl of oatmeal, her eyes glancing from us to our interlaced hands. Good. Be jealous.

"Morning!" Morgan piped up, coming in from the kitchen.

"Morning," I smiled over at her, leaning into Daryl, who's face was blank.

Soon, everyone started filing in and Daryl chose a seat furthest of Beth. I sat beside him and he instantly pushed our chairs together, his hand finding my leg.

Raul came in last, not looking at Daryl nor I. He still didn't seem to approve. There was always someone who didn't...

We all ate breakfast quietly, just the sounds of eating. It was almost uncomfortable and in all honesty I was probably touching Daryl too much. But I wanted her to feel uncomfortable. I wanted her to see how happy we were. She'd never seen it before, us just being us. Now she could. She could see how much Daryl loved me.

He did, right?

'He loves you. More than I think even he knows.'

Where was that from? Who told me that...?

Mom. The dream. I looked over at him and we made brief eye contact before he squeezed my leg. And I went back to eating. But I was no longer hungry. I was only eating because I didn't want there to be any complications with the baby.

After a few minutes, Beth got up and went to the kitchen, thanking Morgan for the meal, and Michonne followed after her.

I breathed a loud sigh of relief that gave me a few looks.

"What's wrong, Mrs. Dixon? Don't like competition?" Raul joked. I locked eyes with him for a second and bit my tongue. Daryl squeezed my leg.

"Don't..." he said under his breath and I dropped my gaze, looking back at my empty bowl.

"Seriously, Raul, just shut up sometimes," Morgan moaned and I cracked a small smile.

After a minute I leaned over and kissed Daryl's neck, both of my hands covered his- they sat in his lap.

"Let's go sit outside?" I suggested, whispering it in his ear.

He didn't answer just slowly scooted his chair back and stood. I did the same. We left without saying anything to the rest of the crew and headed out the front door, onto the little porch swing.

He sat down and patted the seat next to him. I sat beside him, my legs curled under me, and leaned against him.

"None of my clothes fit anymore," I complained, my head on his shoulder, his arm was rested against the back of the bench.

"Huh?"

"None of my clothes fit anymore. I'm finally getting too big for them," I repeated with a little enhancement. My hand absently rubbed across my little belly and I smiled slightly.

"We can get you some more soon."

I nodded, halfway looking up at him.

"So, what happened?" I asked quietly. I didn't exactly know how to bring up the topic to him. So, I just blurted it. Seemed to work easy enough. So far.

"When?" he asked, looking out across the yard to where the field met the woods, separated by barbed wire.

"At the prison, Daryl," I sighed, leaning up.

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"Everything. What you did when we got separated; why it took you so long to get back; where you and Beth slept. I want to know everything," I said, almost demandingly. But I kept it sounding concerned. Because I was.

"What happened with you?" he asked back at me, his arm falling to his side.

"Fine, I'll tell my piece first. But you're going to tell me what happened after, right?" I asked, and when he nodded I let myself reach over and take his hand.

"Well, when you told me to run, I ran. But I was chased by this girl, her name was Kasey. And she was going to kill me, but I convinced her not to. She was going to come back with us. Well, I ran back to find you but everyone was separated and I didn't know where you were. Then I saw the Governor and Rick fighting," I shivered and Daryl's hand tightened around mine. "And, I tried to help-"

"Kyra!" he looked at me with shock and I felt blood rush to my cheeks. "You could have put yourself in danger! You could have put your baby in danger! What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I had to save him! And I did!" I half way yelled at him. I was damn sick of being treated like a kid.

"You...?" he didn't finish his question. "How'd you save him?"

"I had to do it," I almost whispered, looking at the ground.

"You killed him?"

"I shot him. But it doesn't matter what I did. I saved Rick. And then we found Carl, but we couldn't find Judith." I left out the part about her bloody car seat.

"Then?" he asked, and I could barely make out the concern in his voice. He knew I wouldn't get over it easily, killing the Governor. Had I killed him?

But I would have to get over it. It's part of life now. You kill the bad guys. You try your best to save the good guys. And you don't die. Then, when you do, game over. You don't have to worry about anything anymore...

It almost sounded inviting.

"I tried to find you but I couldn't and we had to get Rick out of there so we took off. And on my way out I seen you..." I stopped and swallowed. "Run off with Beth."

"Oh."

"Yeah," I nodded. "But, we got Rick out of there, found Kasey dead, left, and found a house. Then after a few days of staying there we had to take off because of intruders. Rick taught me how to drive and we eventually separated. I was on my own without a car for about a day, I found a truck," I gestured towards the hunk of metal in the yard, "and I came home."

I didn't go into any detail what so ever. There was nothing spectacular about my trip. It was lonely and heart breaking. I should tell him about Beth, but I'll save that for when I hear his side.

"Why'd Rick leave you?" Daryl asked, sounding offended. Like Rick should have watched over me, because that's what friends do for each other. Protect their loved ones in their absence. Did he still count Rick as a friend?

Why did I feel like we've both changed, like we're not the same people who were in love.

I loved him. Did he love me?

"He had to do what was best for Carl. I just hope what he did was the right thing," I swallowed, hoping the Sanctuary proved to be just that and knowing I would never know.

Daryl nodded.

"Anything else happen?"

I hinted just a tint of jealousy in his voice.

"No, Daryl," I sighed, shaking my head. He nodded. "What about you?"

He looked down at me for a second, his eyes searching my face. I loved the way he looked when he did that. But it also scared me. He didn't want to talk. Why not?

"Daryl, please say something," I almost begged, "I've been so... Empty with you gone. And now you won't speak to me. Why won't you tell me what happened? You know what kind of thoughts that makes me think."

"What thoughts?" he asked defensively. I took my hand away from his and crossed my arms, straightening my back.

"You know," I whispered, putting strong emphasis on each word. A short burst of anger coursed through me. Why was he acting like this?

"No. Tell me. What's it got you thinking, Kyra?" he said nastily.

"That you were _with_ her, Daryl!" I tried to keep my voice just above a whisper. No need in everyone in the house knowing what we were talking about.

"I was with her."

"Daryl, please just tell me if anything happened between you two!"

"Nothing happened, Kyra! Why would you think I would do that to you?" he stared at me like I was a lunatic- a jealous girlfriend.

"Promise?" I asked a bit quieter.

All he did was nod and I nodded back, leaning against him again. I didn't need to know what happened. Just that he was faithful. Why did I ever think he wouldn't be?


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE  
Michonne's POV

I had already warned Beth today about making Kyra uncomfortable. Kyra knew something about her. She had ran away with Rick, had Rick said something? Or was this jealousy from when Daryl told her that Beth tried to make a move on him?

Either way, Kyra was no longer Beth's friend like she used to be. Her trying to claw Beth's eyes out was enough proof of that. I already told Morgan not to let them be alone together. They'd try to kill each other.

And, in my own opinion, Kyra would win. Beth may not be innocent, but she still had innocence. If that makes sense. Kyra had killed her biggest enemy, the guy she blamed for being an orphan. Even though she says she didn't kill him, he was shot twice in the chest with no medical help. He either died from the wounds she inflicted or a walker got him. The Governor was dead at her hands. She knew that. But she wouldn't admit it.

Beth had barely killed any walkers. Kyra was a real survivor now. Nobody doubted that anymore. Only she did. Because she didn't want to admit she had become part of this dirty, scum world. She wanted to remain innocent from it. But she wasn't.

And if it came to it, she would kill Beth. Or seriously harm her. Which ever one she needed to use to get her to leave her and Daryl alone. Because, although she didn't admit it, she used her survival skills.

Daryl and I were doing a quick patrol, Kyra was helping Morgan with some clothes, and Tray and Raul took Beth on a raid with them. Just to get her away from the wrath of Pregnant Kyra.

We hadn't talked yet, but I planned on telling Daryl to be careful with Kyra. She wasn't exactly concrete solid yet.

I looked over at him, scanning the tree line. I sighed loudly and he looked over at me.

"Something wrong?" he grunted, not looking at me. This was my time to jump.

"You know she's not stable."

"I know."

"So be careful."

He turned to look at me.

"What do you mean?" he asked, lowering his bow and stopping in his tracks. I stopped too, a hand on my hip.

"Just... Don't lie to her or anything. If you and Beth _happened_ to do some thing, come clean."

"We didn't do nothin'. Jesus Christ, everyone seems to think we jumped each other. Well we didn't," he shot me a look and I shook my head.

"Don't hurt her, Daryl," I warned, my voice soft. His eyes completely widened, looking like I had back handed him. I'm pretty sure I just crossed a line and I know I shouldn't dabble in other peoples relationships. But someone needed to tell him to wake up. And I'll be damned if I let anyone else here do so.

"I would never hurt her, Michonne!"

"You're hurting her now," I retorted calmly, my gaze fixed on his. I wouldn't let him try and intimidate me.

He looked shocked or stunned or pissed. I didn't know. Daryl was hard to read.

"How?"

I raised my eyebrows and shook my head. How did he not get it?

"She's so hurt Daryl. She thought that she lost you. Not for a few weeks. But completely lost you. Do you know what that did to her? You weren't there to see her lose hope! It was terrifying! I knew that I wouldn't be able to bring her back from depression if she sunk into it. And she damn near did!" I tried to explain, but I don't think he would really understand unless he saw her like that. It would hurt him more than it hurt her.

"But she's ok now. I'm back." he said it more like a question than anything. He was unsure himself. He noticed she was different too. He was blind or stupid.

"She's not ok!" I nearly yelled, having to calm myself down. "Daryl, she's gone through a lot in the past month. It would really be a miracle if the stress... If it.." I couldn't finish my sentence and I swallowed hard, looking up at him, willing for him to understand what I was trying to say. I didn't want to have to say it.

"If what?" he asked.

"If the baby survives, Daryl," I whispered softly, like they were forbidden words. Like Ron Weasley whispering the name 'Voldemort.'

When Daryl looked like he had been slapped, and he looked like he was ready to slap me at the same time, I decided to jump in and explain myself.

"Last time she lost the baby, she was at four months, she was under a great deal of stress, and she miscarried. The same exact thing is happening to her now. Daryl, she needs you to be there for her." I paused and his anger slowly melted away. Maybe. He still didn't say anything. His eyes continually searched the ground.

"I'm not saying you did or didn't do anything with Beth Greene while you were away. But, if you did... Come clean to Kyra. Don't lie to her and let her find out from Beth..."

He looked up at me then and shook his head. The denial and anger curtain once again stood in front of his emotions. He wouldn't let me in. Why did he do this?

"My baby's gonna be fine, Kyra's gonna be fine, and I'm gonna be fine. Nothin's gonna happen."

And with that, he turned around and walked off.

I frowned and followed him, hoping he didn't hate me.

But that night I watched him walk into the kitchen and put his arm around Kyra, watched him kiss her neck when he thought no one was looking. And I watched her smile; seen her as she beamed at the man she loved. She loved to look at him when he wasn't looking; when he was taking with someone else or studying a situation. She looked so amazed and my heart broke.

Please, Daryl, I said to myself, Please don't hurt her again. Heal her broken.


	30. Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

I wrung out the clothes, sitting on the back porch, while Morgan took them and hung them up on the line she had hung across the porch posts. It was trashy looking but we didn't care and it got the job done.

I handed her one of Roberts shirts and she pinned it. She smiled down at me as I wrung out another one.

"What?" I asked, a small smile on my own face as I handed her another shirt.

She shrugged, turning her back on me to hang the shirt up.

"You're just happy again," she said it with her back turned and I knew her face would be red. She could deal with being a therapist but she could get flustered being close to people. I liked her more for that.

I shrugged, my grin slightly widening.

"I guess I am, yeah," I nodded, fishing around the lukewarm water filled bucket to grab another piece of clothing; this one my shirt. "Stretch that one a little."

"You don't mind her being around?" she asked as she pulled the material apart at the stomach, stretching it.

"Who? Beth?" I asked, looking down at the bucket.

"Yeah," Morgan nodded, grabbing two pins from her grocery bag and pinning the yellow shirt by it's shoulders.

"I guess I do. But, I don't have to worry about Daryl and her. So I'm ok with it," I said honestly, although her name made me want to vomit.

"Tray was thinking about setting her up in the basement. Have you been down there? Raul and Tray checked it out yesterday. They said it wasn't that bad," she said nonchalantly as she worked.

I stared off the porch for a second.

"I don't care where she goes. But don't imprison her," I shrugged, wringing out a pair of underwear.

Morgan nodded, humming something I didn't recognize as she she moved back and forth from the wire to me.

"So, you and Daryl are... Good?" she asked suddenly and I felt my eyes prick with tears. Nobody had cared to ask me if I was better now that he was back. Morgan cared.

"Well..." I began, but couldn't find the words. "I don't know. I mean, we're good. But, I feel like it's almost like he's only half there, ya know?" I stared at the water. Jeans and a T-shirt. The last things in the bucket. I grabbed the shirt, one of Morgan's.

"Yeah, I get it. Why do you think that is?" she asked, sounding more like Therapist Morgan than Friend Morgan. I didn't mind. At least someone was talking to me about it.

"I dunno..." I shrugged sheepishly, "It may just be in my head. I think something happened while we were separated that he doesn't wan to tell me about."

"Like?" she urged me.

"Like... Someone died, someone at his hands. Maybe someone just got hurt and he had to leave them. Maybe he found a walker that he recognized and he went back to Merle and the pain he felt there. Maybe... Maybe he cheated..." At those words Morgan's head snapped around, eyebrows raised. Before she could say anything I continued. "But, I don't know. It's just, he's walled himself up again and I don't know why. I'm so happy to have him back, but he might as well be gone, ya know?"

Morgan nodded and pulled one of the lawn chairs over, sitting in front of me.

"Is this you really playing detective and see that he's showing signs of cheating, or is this jealously over him vein with Beth for three weeks?" she asked seriously. Probably because if it was the first one she'd smack him herself.

"I don't know, Morgan. And honestly, I almost don't want to know. I like having him here. But I want him to open up again. God, I missed him so freaking much and it's like he's so emotionally gone. I hate it, Morgan," I shook my head, a tear I didn't allow flew down my face, fat and fast.

"Honey, Daryl seems like a faithful guy. Do you trust him?" she asked quietly.

"I want to," I sniffed, "I really really do. And I didn't not trust him until he started acting weird. It's like we're back to square one but this time he doesn't want me," I shook my head, digging my face in the palms of my hands. I felt Morgan's hand on my back and she squeezed my shoulder.

"No, don't think that way. Maybe... Maybe he just blames himself for you two getting separated and he doesn't know how to cope?" she suggested, and all I could do was shrug, my face still pointed down.

"I just don't know what I'll do if he closes up again, Morgan," I finally lifted my head, just a little, to look up at her through blurry eyes, "I fought so hard for him to open up to me the first time. I don't want to have to do it again."

"But if you have to, will you?" she asked quietly, and my chin quivered.

"Yes," my voice broke and I instantly began sobbing, my face fell back into my hands.

"Hey, hey," she squeezed my shoulders again, letting me cry.

"I just don't want it to be a one-way street, ya know?" I managed to get out, still babbling.

"Maybe it won't be."

"I want Daryl to love me as much as I love him. And I don't know if he does!"

'He loves you. More than even he knows.'

"Shh," Morgan whispered. "Don't talk like that. He loves you. Come on, let's get you cleaned up before everyone comes back in."

Within an hour I was dried up, my face wasn't red anymore, and I was in the kitchen, playing with the boys, while Morgan cooked.

Beth, Raul, and Tray came in a little later. Beth went to the living room and didn't talk to anyone, Raul and Tray helped set the table.

When Daryl and Michonne came in, I hadn't noticed. Daryl came behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me to him. I smiled and leaned against him.

"Hey," I whispered.

"Hey," he mumbled.

And I turned around to give him a quick kiss before going to the dining room. He followed and before I reached the door, he pulled me to him.

"Something wrong? Did Beth say anything?" he asked, his voice low and gravely.

"No, Daryl. Should she?"

He looked shocked and when I turned around and walked the other way it took him a second to follow me.

But the rest of the evening was filled with him sneaking in kisses, hands on legs, and acting too lovey.

But when he crawled in bed next to me and kissed me, I just forgot about it all. I forgot all the problems for just a minute and let him kiss me. Let him take my shirt off. Let him have sex with me.

I knew tomorrow would go back to being distant. Because he had holed up again. And I was going to have to tear it down. Again.


End file.
